Dissolution
by shireling
Summary: Change is inevitable: our only choice is to adapt and make the best of the new situation.
1. Chapter 1

**Dissolution**

**Chapter 1**

Def. The process of breaking up or destroying an organization or institution

"Doctor, Special Agent McGee is here for his appointment. Should I send him through?"

"Thank you, Marcy." It was only 7.30 in the morning and it was always a good start to the day when patients arrived in good time. Dr Avery cast a quick glance around her consulting room to ensure that it was as neat and comfortable as she expected it to be to put her new client at ease. At the discreet knock she moved around her desk and greeted the newcomer with a warm smile and a welcoming handshake.

"Agent McGee, I am Beth Avery, please come in and take a seat." She stepped aside and observed as the Agent made a visual scan of the room, leaving it to him to decide where he was most comfortable sitting. He ignored the couch and the window seat in favor of upright chair in front of her desk. In a show of old world courtesy he remained standing until she lowered herself into her own chair.

"Agent McGee. . ."

"It's Tim", the young man interrupted quietly. "I'm not sure if that's OK. . .Agent McGee always sounds so formal."

"Of course it's OK, it is important that you feel comfortable if you are to derive any benefit from our meetings." She saw his shoulders relax down by degrees and smiled as he settled more comfortably into his seat. "You were nervous about coming to see me?"

"A little," he admitted sheepishly, not making eye contact. "I've had your number for a few weeks. It took me a while to pluck up the courage make the appointment and I'm ashamed to admit how many times over the last few days that I nearly cancelled. . .if your receptionist complains about hang-up calls. . .well, it was probably me".

"I promise, I'm really not that scary," she assured him, aware that this small admission of weakness was hard for him to admit.

"It wasn't you I was scared of, not really. . ." She thought the way he tailed off revealed a lot, as did his body language. He was an attractive man with a gentle demeanor, very softly spoken and he held himself in the manner of someone trying to disappear into the background, slightly hunched over to disguise his height and with his hands clasped together between his knees.

"Tim, I've had a brief look through the information you filled out for me but it would really help get things moving if you could tell me what it is that brought you here today."

He rocked forward slightly several times and then surged to his feet, moving to the window with his back to her.

"There are some big changes coming soon and I am going to have to make some decisions and right now I don't know how I'm going to do that."

"Are these changes in your work environment or in your private life, Tim?"

"It will affect both but the thing is. . .the thing is that it is all so messed up," His head thumped against the window frame, not hard but enough to leave a blanched spot on his forehead that soon flushed red. He didn't resist when she gently led him away from the window and urged him down into the sofa. She poured a glass of water and handed I to him, noticing the tremor in his hands

Dr Avery allowed the silence to settle into the room. She was more concerned now that she had been with her initial assessment from reading his history. What she had thought was likely work based stress now appeared to be depression, although it was too early yet to determine to what degree.

"A lot of my clients are in Law Enforcement and I know that is a very high pressure job. You work long hours, miss meals and often have to deal with very volatile and distressing situations," she explained. His only response was a nod of acknowledgement.

" How long have you been feeling low, Tim?" Her quiet enquiry brought his head up and for a brief second he made eye contact.

"I didn't think I was. . .I thought it was just normal work stress."

"But?"

"I love my job. I 'm proud of what we do and I worked hard to get to where I am and I'm good at what I do. . ."

"But?" she pushed.

"But It's getting harder and harder to motivate myself; to get out of bed in the mornings, to eat, to exercise. It all seems just seems so . . .so hard," He explained. "It just never ends. . the violence, the greed, the anger, the deceit . Sometimes I just wonder why we bother; it doesn't matter how many crimes we investigate or how many bad guys we put away there is always another and another and another. . ." she could see him swallowing against the up-swell of emotion and it just exacerbated just how pale and drawn and. . .lost he appeared.

"I'm can see you've lost weight recently. Was that deliberate?"

"To start with, yes. I wanted to get fitter. I got a personal trainer, signed up with a gym and was careful about what I ate. I got down to a good weight and I felt good."

"And now?"

"I'm probably fifteen pounds under what I should be," he admitted "and I know that's not good. . ."

"Ok, Tim, I want you to relax back in the chair and close your eyes and cast your mind back over the last few months. Out of all the incidents that you have had to deal with what is the one that stands out most clearly in your mind."

He laughed, a bitter and sadly despairing sound that bore no relation to humor. "You want me to choose just one!"

"Come on, Tim," she coaxed, "the very worst; a bad case, a scary moment, a near death experience. . ."

For a moment she thought he wouldn't answer. She watched the emotions flickering behind his closed eyelids as he paled and his breathing sped up.

"Ziva! Oh, God, Ziva!" Remembering that time was like a knife in his soul and the pain was back like her death was recent .

"Gently, Tim. Tell me about Ziva." She waited as he tried to get himself together.

"Ziva is my friend and is one of my teammates . . .she left without saying goodbye and she died. . .we were told she died. She was betrayed by the people who were supposed to look out for her, by her Father."

"Tim, you said is? Is Ziva still alive?"Dr Avery clarified.

"We went to Africa to find the terrorist she was hunting and to avenge her death. . .we were captured. . .and we found her alive in a stinking hell-hole in the middle of the desert. . .she had been a prisoner for months. We brought her home but she was so changed, so broken. . ." he choked.

"You must have been relieved to have her back safely."

"Oh, I was. And it's stupid but sometimes I still wake up and I have to remind myself that she came back. . .it's been months."

"How long did you believe her to be dead, Tim?"

"Weeks, perhaps a couple of months," he explained. "Why? Is that important?"

"Well, as you said, for a couple of months you thought your close friend and colleague was dead and I suspect that during that time you were working yourself into the ground trying to find out what had happened to her."

"And?"

"And you didn't have the opportunity to grieve for her, did you? And when she came back you were all so relieved to have her home that you pushed all that grief away as superfluous."

"But there was nothing to grieve for, she wasn't dead,"

"You thought your friend was dead and when she came back she wasn't the same, was she? You said yourself she was changed and broken. That was a horrible ordeal for her but you all had to deal with it."

"But it was well over a year ago, maybe nearer to two. It is in the past. I certainly don't want to go dragging all that up again."

"Thinking about it still distresses you, Tim. Did you ever discuss it with your colleagues?"

"No. We got knocked about a bit during the Op so we all had to have a psych debriefing when we returned and I know that Ziva was seeing someone for a while but we don't talk about stuff like that. . ."

"Oh, the tough, macho world of law enforcement, it's the bane of a poor psych doctors existence!" Doctor Avery groused with wry amusement. "And I suspect that when you say' knocked about a bit' you really mean that you suffered all sorts of mistreatment, don't you!"

Actually Dr Avery had a pretty good idea just what all the members of the team had gone through during the mission to rescue Ziva as she had been the Doctor to counsel her in the months following her release. She also knew just how much of a support Tim had been to his friend in the first few difficult months.

"No Comment!" Tim managed a smile of his own but she knew she was unlikely at this early stage to get any more information on that particular sensitive topic.

"What about your personal life, Tim," Dr Avery probed.

"An unmitigated disaster of epic proportions. . .always has been. You name it I've experienced it; stalkers, con-artists, murderers, assassins, identity thief and to top that I have now managed to alienate the closest friend I've ever had."

"Was this a friend or a work colleague. . .or someone more important than that."

"All three. I thought she was the one," Tim explained.

By the end of the appointment Dr Avery was even more sure that her new patient would benefit from a chance to unravel his complicated and often lonely life.

"OK, Tim, our time is nearly up for today. I hope you will consider coming to see me on a weekly basis for the next few weeks."

"You think you can help me get through this?"

"Yes, I'm sure I can help you. I think you are suffering from moderate depression, exacerbated by work related stress. . . possibly even a degree of PTSD" she explained.

"And will I need medication?"

"No, I wouldn't recommend it at the moment. You have taken the most important step by recognizing that you have a problem and asking for help. From what you said earlier you have been subject to a lot of stressful and difficult situations over the last few months and it will take us a while to work through those. I'm not saying it will be a quick or an easy process and some of it you may find distressing to deal with but I do believe that we can work together to help you cope with the bad memories and move forward. It is very important that you to make a real effort to eat well and to relax when you're off duty. Be kind to yourself," she smiled patting his hand.

"I will try," he assured her.

"Good. Now I have a little project for you."

"Oh," he asked warily.

"It's nothing difficult, I promise you. I see from your information that you are a writer?"

"Yes," he confirmed.

"Do you keep a diary?"

"No. . .I did as a teenager, you know, all that stereotypical teen angst. . .but these days there really isn't anything interesting to write about."

"I'd like you to have a go at writing an account of you experiences, particularly in relation to work, although you can take it back as far as you like. . .not just what you did but how you felt about it."

"Why," he queried.

"It is a way of helping you to understand how your experiences affect how you see yourself and to understand how you react to your environment, to see patterns of behavior that you may be unaware of or be deliberately ignoring. It allows you to identify areas of your life that are particularly stressful and to modify habits that are unhelpful or unhealthy."

"And do I need to show it to you,"

"No, not if you don't want to. Tim, everyone has their own personal story, their own personal narrative. Often there are areas of ourselves that we don't share even with those closest to us; secret fears or ambitions, things we are ashamed of or embarrassed about, things that keep you awake at night or stop you attempting something new. I just think it might help you to clarify particular areas that you would like help dealing with." She explained, and for the first time in the consultation she could see a feint spark of interest in his eyes.

"I'll give it a try, Dr Avery."

"It was really nice to meet you, Tim, and I'll see you same time next week," she said, ushering him through to the reception area with a warm smile, "and Tim, if you suddenly feel worse before you're due to see me, please make an earlier appointment."

NCIS 

The deciding factors in choosing Dr Avery were that her offices were close to the Navy Yard and that she offered early morning appointments. Tim made it back to headquarters by just after 08.30.

As he emerged from the elevator he was relieved to see only the Boss's desk occupied.

"Morning, Gibbs," he placed the coffee he had picked up from the vending cart on the Yard on Gibbs' desk.

"This a bribe, McGee,"

"Would it work, Boss?"

"Never has yet."

"Then I guess it's not. Where are Tony and Ziva?" Tim asked, settling at his desk and powering up his computer.

"Gone down to Dahlgren to check out how a highly classified experimental weapon managed to turn up in a DC warehouse."

"What do you want me to work on, Boss?" McGee asked after a quick scan through his emails.

"Anything you need to tell me, McGee?"There wasn't any censure in his tone and his expression was one of well hidden concern. It may have been phrased as a question but Tim didn't mistake the imperative to come up with more than a yes or no answer.

"Boss, I'm going to be going back next week and every week for the foreseeable future. Will that be a problem? I've arranged to have the first appointment of the day." Tim explained. He knew he was entitled to time off for health related appointments, especially as this would be classed as a work related issue but having Gibbs approval and support would help ease any potential difficulties.

"They understand you may have to cancel at the last minute if we get a call-out?"

"Yes, they are happy to work around work commitments." Tim explained. " Boss, can we keep this just between us."

"Keep Ducky appraised of what's going on and I will try to keep DiNozzo off your back. . .but don't think you can keep him in the dark for long. . .he's a damn good investigator and nosy as hell."

"Thanks, Boss."

"McGee, I need you to finish working through Commander Grigson's financials and then see what you can recover from the laptop we retrieved from the warehouse. . .it's down in the evidence locker, Abby hasn't had a chance to work on it yet".

"I'll bring it up here to work on. That way I can work on the searches at the same time and I won't be in Abby's way."

Right now the last place Tim wanted to be was anywhere near the forensics lab and if Gibbs realized that he was avoiding Abby then he clearly wasn't about to push for explanations.

As the day progressed, amidst the banter of the bullpen and the search for leads on the current case, Tim realized that any spare time he had for thought was taken up with the task Dr Avery had set for him rather than trying to work out just what blunder or omission he had committed to turn Abby against him.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

For the members of Team Gibbs, a day with no active case inevitably meant a slightly more relaxed atmosphere and a mountain of paperwork. It also meant that there was no avoiding the ongoing breach between McGee and Abby.

With Gibbs out on another coffee run, McGee took the opportunity to escape from the increasingly intensive scrutiny of his team-mates by going down to autopsy to see Ducky.

As soon as he was out of sight Ziva pulled his chair over to Tony's desk and snatched the file out of his hand. "Tony, did you manage to get any sense out of Abby," she asked, deliberately keeping her voice to a whisper.

"I tried asking, I tried wheedling and I tried intimidation, well, as much as it is possible to intimidate Abs. . .because, let's face it, only Gibbs on a really good day can intimidate Abby and that's only when she allows herself to be intimidated. . ."

"Tony! Focus." Ziva slapped her hand on the table to get his attention.

Tony grimaced and leant forward so as not to be overheard."Whatever the hell he's done it must be really serious to have pissed her off this badly."

Though he would never admit it, the whole situation had him badly rattled. He counted Abby as one of his closest friends and after nearly ten years working together thought he had a pretty good idea of her many foibles and idiosyncrasies.

"I know she can blow hot and cold but I have never known her to hold a grudge for this long," he admitted

"Did she give you no clue as to why she is so mad. . .normally it is hard to keep Abby quiet when she has a buzz in her bonnet."

Tony let the mangled comment slip, only too aware that often Ziva used linguistic mix-ups to ease tense situations. "No. She said it was none of my business, that it was private and that if I didn't stop bugging her about it she would start using me as a test subject for her poisons database. . .and she didn't look as if she was joking."

"Perhaps we should try a more subtle approach," Ziva suggested. "We could invite her out for a drink after work. . .there is that new Goth theme club she has been going on about trying. . .the one McGee wasn't too keen to try out. . .perhaps after a few drinks she would spill the peas, yes?"

"Beans, Ziva. It's 'spill the beans' and seeing as it is a work night and that Abby is quite capable of drinking us both under the table, I'm not sure that would work."

"Why would she want to drink with us under the table, Tony?"

"Never mind, Ziva. . .I just don't think it would work and would likely end up with us on the wrong side of a Gibbs slap for coming into work with a hangover."

"Owww"

"Don't even think about it, DiNozzo."

"Yes, Boss. Sorry, Boss. . .getting back to this really exciting twelve year old cold case, Boss."

"Where's McGee." Gibbs handed his two subordinates drinks from the tray in his hand and set a cup down on McGee's desk, tossing the tray in the garbage can and taking a long sip from his own cup.

"He went down to see Ducky, Gibbs."

"Good. You two get back to work and less of the gossiping, DiNozzo."

"Boss. . .?"

"What?"

"I'm worried about McMiserable, Boss. . .and not just about this thing with Abby. Something's not right with him."

Gibbs rubbed his hand through his hair and growled softly, though without any hint of aggression, just a weary sigh. "I know, Tony. He's dealing with it and he wants to keep it private. We need to respect that."

"So you know what is wrong?"

"Not really. Not the details."

"And this thing with Abby?"

"Not a clue. . ."

"Well, shouldn't we do 'something', Boss, because people are starting to notice and the scuttlebutt is starting to get pretty vicious and I don't want Tim to have to deal with that on top of everything else right now."

"Working on it, Tony." It was a testament to just how concerned Tony was that the use of Tim's name had just popped out and Gibbs flinched at the significance.

When he got down to Autopsy, Gibbs could see McGee and Ducky through the window of the office sitting down drinking tea whilst Palmer was finishing up with the body gracing one of the tables.

"You going solo, Palmer?"

"Oh, Agent Gibbs. Yes, actually have for a while now. . .under Dr Mallard's supervision, of course. I'll. . .I'll just carry on," he stuttered to Gibbs retreating shadow.

Ducky, seeing Gibbs hovering at the door, whispered something to McGee and then beckoned him in.

"Is this an official visit or a social call, Jethro. . .I'm afraid I can only offer you tea."

"A little of both, Duck."

McGee was on his feet and heading for the door. "I'll just head on back. . .Thanks for the tea, Ducky."

Gibbs didn't like the slightly panic-stricken expression that flickered across the younger man's face. "No, McGee. We need to talk."

"You are quite welcome to use my office, Jethro. I will just be next door going over the autopsy reports with Mr Palmer."

"Actually, I think you need to be in on this, Duck; could use your insight."

'Of course. . .as long as that is alright with Timothy."

"Oh, God. . .this isn't one of those intervention type things, is it?" It clearly slipped out without thought from the shocked look on McGee's face.

The sardonic grin flashed at him was the only response as Gibbs ushered the two men out.

"Palmer, if anyone needs us, we're taking a lunchbreak. I have my cell."

"Yes, Agent Gibbs." Jimmy responded, breathing a sigh of relief and wondering if he was ever going to get over his nervousness in the man's presence.

"Don't look so worried, McGee, we just need to talk." They were sitting in a quiet booth in a sandwich bar not far from the Yard. The empty plates in front of Ducky and Gibbs were in stark contrast to the pile of crumbs on Tim's plate indicating a meal nervously destroyed rather than eaten. The waitress took away the plates and returned to refill their coffee cups.

"How are you feeling, Lad?" Ducky asked.

"Do you mean right now, Ducky or about life in general. . .because right now I feel like a mouse cornered by two prowling cats," Tim muttered, his eyes fixed on the contents of his mug.

"We are just worried about you, Timothy."

"I know, Ducky, and I do appreciate it. . ."

"Are you still seeing Dr Avery?" the Doctor asked. Tim nodded in the affirmative.

"And is it helping."

"I think so, Ducky. She's nice. Talking to her is helping me to think objectively about things," Tim explained. "I know you don't like shrinks, Boss, but it really helps that I can talk to someone who's not associated with work. . .who is impartial and non-judgemental. . ."

Gibbs suppressed a flinch. "You know you can talk to me, Tim."

"I appreciate the offer, Boss, but let's face it we are none of us good about sharing personal stuff. . .you'd rather have teeth pulled than get into a deep and meaningful discussion about 'feelings'. . . and I'm not much better."

"He has you there, Jethro," Ducky chuckled.

"Just because I'm not good at it doesn't mean I'm not prepared to do it." Gibbs huffed, emptying his coffee and signaling for another. He excused himself and disappeared towards the restrooms.

"He means well, Timothy."

"I know but you know how Tony feels about Gibbs being nice? I'm beginning to understand what he means. ..it's like the twilight zone!" Tim half joked

When Gibbs returned he didn't waste time on bringing up the subject that was on all their minds.

"McGee! Abby?"

"I don't know what to tell you, Boss. I don't know what is going on with her and she absolutely refuses to talk to me about it. I have tried numerous times over the last couple of weeks and she just cuts me dead. She won't talk to me, she won't look at me, she has made it quite clear that she doesn't want me in her lab and if I try and push it she just walks away. . .And, Boss. . .I really have no idea what I have done."

"I believe you, McGee. Ducky have you had any luck in finding out what's up with her? Because I've tried and she never usually keeps things from me, not when I ask her outright."

"No, Jethro, I have tried and so has Anthony on several occasions and he is just as frustrated about the situation as we are. But I do know that this has the potential to tear the team apart if we don't get to the bottom of it," Ducky confirmed.

"I won't let that happen, Boss. I'll ask the Director to reassign me. ."

"The hell you will," Gibbs growled. "Damn It, McGee, this is exactly why I have rule 12!"

"That's why I told you when Abby and I started seeing each other again, Boss. . .I didn't want to keep secrets and I didn't want to mess up the team," Tim reminded him. "You told us to keep it out of the office and we did."

"You were very discreet, Timothy. I don't think anyone outside of our immediate team even realized you two were an item," Ducky assure him.

"Go back to the beginning, McGee. Perhaps if we work through this logically we may be able to untangle just what happened."

There was no disguising the horror on McGee's face at the thought of discussing such a personal matter, especially to Gibbs. "Just keep it simple, Timothy. . .no need to go into technicolour details," Ducky soothed.

"I need more coffee," Tim muttered, "or maybe half a bottle of whiskey." He tried to hide the tremor in his hands but both men had seen.

"No, Lad, I think you have enough caffeine in your system right now," Ducky said, calling over the waitress and asking for a chamomile tea. Tim grimaced at the tea bag floating in the cup of luke-warm water and Gibbs didn't even try to hide his disgust at the ensuing insipid brew.

"McGee!"

"Look, you both know my history with Abby. . .We dated before I came onto the team and it didn't end well. We wanted different things and Abby was too much of a free spirit to try to fit into my vision of a future together. . .I didn't want her to change.. .I thought we could make it work because I . . .I loved her. For a long time it really hurt me but she moved on. In the end I decided that I would rather be friends with her than not have her in my life at all."

"Go on, Timothy," Ducky urged.

"It's not always been easy being Abby's friend," Tim admitted quietly not able to meet Gibbs' gaze. " I know you have a special bond with her and I don't want you to think I resent that, because I don't but I'm not sure you realize just how often her thoughtlessness can hurt other people, Boss."

"It does seem that in the past she has singled you out and played on your good nature. . .I know how badly hurt you were by her behavior and attitude when you were attacked by Jethro," Ducky commented.

"What, you mean her total disregard for my injuries or for just how terrifying the whole ordeal was! Yeah, that's just the sort of thing I mean, Ducky."

"But you got over it and you are happy to have the mutt now, aren't you?" Gibbs queried.

"Yes I forgave her. . .not that she ever admitted that she was in the wrong and I wouldn't be without Jethro for the world but that doesn't excuse her behavior or how she treated me at the time. . .and before you say anything, I know I should have stood up to her. . ."

"Why didn't you?"

"At the time I was feeling pretty isolated. . You had me drive the dog back to the yard, Abby was on my case for shooting a poor defenseless animal and Tony thought an appropriate response was to put a dog attack video on the monitor. . .I didn't think anyone would back me up. . .I knew she could get away with just about anything. . .and, let's face it, she still does! At the time you were more bothered by the fact that she had rushed out into the field to clear the dog than about what was going on with me." It was a pure recitation of facts without any hint of accusation and it made Gibbs' gut churn. Gibbs filed that thought away to come back to later, shamed by the implication but needing to move the conversation forward.

"Go on, McGee," Gibbs urged.

"Well, for all our ups and downs we still managed to remain friends. After Mexico I stopped trying to work out why she treated me differently to everyone else and stopped making excuses for her. I thought the problem stemmed from me and, given my lousy experiences with relationships, decided that for my own piece of mind I just had to accept her for who she was, warts and all and to stop expecting anything better."

"Oh, Timothy!" Ducky was devastated, finally understanding just how this gentle, stoic man had struggled for so long without ever realizing he deserved better.

"No, it's alright Ducky. . .I know I was wrong, that I was selling myself short. . .Dr Avery is helping me to work through those issues," Tim assured him with a gentle smile.

"I don't understand, McGee, why the hell did you get involved with her again?"

"I wasn't intending to," Tim explained. "After the whole Amanda fiasco I was feeling raw and convinced that I was destined to be alone. And then Abby started being particularly attentive. We went out with the rest of the team a few times after work and I always seemed to end up giving her a lift home. Then she suggested outings on our own and eventually she asked me if I would go out with her as a couple. . .and I said no, Boss. I really thought we should stick as friends. She seemed to accept that was all could offer her." Tim looked at his two companions with a faintly despairing smile." Now I think about it, it was like she saw that I was pretty much swept off my feet by Amanda and she wanted to reaffirm her prior claim on me. If only I had stuck to my guns!"

"Go on, Timothy," Ducky urged.

"Well, you know Abby. . .she just doesn't give up when she's made up her mind that she wants something. . .only this time instead of bulldozing through my defenses like she has in the past she went for the subtle approach. . .and I fell for it, hook, line and sinker. She told she had changed, that she had grown up and that. . .that she loved me. . . I told her we had to take it slow and that I wasn't going to hide it from you, Boss and she agreed with all my conditions. . .and it was good, Boss, really good and for the first time in years I thought I had the chance of the future I'd always dreamed of.

"So what went wrong, Timothy?" Ducky asked.

"I have no idea. . ." Tim suddenly couldn't cope with the scrutiny. "Excuse me, I just need. . ." Tim headed for the restroom but not before both men saw the shattered look he was trying to conceal.

"What the hell, Ducky!" Gibbs growled. Ducky put a hand on his arm and prevented him following his distressed agent.

"No Jethro, give him a minute. He will not thank you for seeing him like this. This is hard enough for the poor lad."

"What did he mean about Mexico, Duck?"

"I thought you might pick up on that. Did you ever read his report about his and Abby's trip down to Mexico, Jethro?"

"No, things got messy pretty quick what with Mike and his girls going missing and that whole Reynosa business. Vance dealt with Abby's report: I guess he signed off on McGee's too."

"I suggest that before you talk to Abby you read Timothy's report. . .it might explain a few things." Ducky prevented any further discussion on the matter as he saw Tim returning.

"Are you alright, Timothy? Do you wish to continue?"

"I'm OK, Ducky, might as well tell you the rest. . .not that I can really explain anything. As far as I know everything was fine. We went out with Tony and Ziva after we finished up that drug case at Fort Belvoir. We had a couple of drinks and I drove Abby back to her place. I didn't go in as it was a work night but I stayed in the parking lot until I saw Abby's light go on and she waved at me from the window.

"So everything seemed OK?"

"Yes. I didn't see her the next day because she was in court and before she got back I went down to Norfolk and was stuck down there for a couple of days trying to unscramble that computer mess."

"Did you speak to her while you were away?" Gibbs asked.

"I couldn't reach her on the phone but I sent a couple of texts and emails, none of which she replied to. When I checked in with Tony I asked him if she was Ok and he just said she seemed really busy," Tim explained. "When I got back she wouldn't talk to me, wouldn't say what was wrong and told me to stop bothering her. . .it's been like that for the last two weeks."

"I don't know what else to do, Boss,"

"Perhaps you need to get away for a while, Tim." The unexpected use of his first name was unusual enough that it caused Tim to pause before responding.

"Won't that just be seen as her chasing me away?"

"You really could use a break, Timothy. Even before this business with Abby I was concerned about you; that's why I suggested you see Dr Avery. I'm afraid you're burning out. And no, that is not in any way a reflection on how you do your job. You are a very dedicated and conscientious Agent. But I can't remember the last time you took leave and as a Doctor and as your friend a feel it is my duty to urge you to start taking better care of yourself. You have a bright future in the Agency, Timothy, and I would hate to see that cut short because you succumbed to the pressures of the job."

"Ducky is right, McGee. I will square it away with the Director. Go and soak up the sun on a beach somewhere or write a new novel. . .perhaps it's time for L.J Tibbs to make a reappearance," Gibbs teased.

"Oh, no. No way! Not after that last debacle!"

"Then create a new hero. . .writing is part of who you are, Timothy, you mustn't stifle your creativity," Ducky chided, pleased to see a spark of interest in his friends face.

"Actually, Dr Avery gave me a writing project to think about. . ."

"Two weeks starting from today," Gibbs pronounced in his most authoritative manner, " And I expect you to turn off your phone, ignore any emails about work and have a complete break."

"Are you sure Boss. . .and what about Abby."

"I'll deal with Abby."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

When Gibbs strode into the Lab, a large soda cup in one hand and his own coffee in the other he was surprised by the silence that greeted him. A quick scan of the room elicited several surprises. The first was that the Lab was pristine; the work surfaces clear with no sign of evidence waiting for processing and all the machines turned off. The second was a carry-on suitcase topped by a coat sitting next to the door.

The forensic scientist appeared from the ballistics lab and only paused briefly on seeing him waiting for her.

"Going somewhere, Abs?" he queried holding out his usual offering of Caf-Pow.

She ignored the drink and would have walked past him except that he stepped into her path.

"I don't have time for this, Gibbs."

"Not the end of the workday . . . what's your hurry?"

"I have somewhere to be . . . not that it is any of your business," it was a tone he had heard before but never addressed to him and he sure as hell didn't like it.

"You pissed at me too, Abby."

"Why should you care . . . you haven't been down to see me for days." There was a degree of petulance to her manner that grated on his last nerve and pushed his irritation up several notches.

"Not been a very welcoming atmosphere down here for a while, Abby. You're the one been in a snit."

"Not with you, Gibbs. . ." she protested, expecting the admission to earn her a reprieve from his obvious censure.

"And not with DiNozzo or Ziva or Ducky or even Palmer . . . so what did McGee do? Because we are a team and a team needs to work together. We can't do that when you have unilaterally designated one of 'my' team persona non grata."

"That's private and I do not want to discuss it!" she stamped.

"Not good enough, Abby. It stopped being private when it started to affect work. Like I told McGee, rule twelve is there for a reason . . . you broke the rule and you have to deal with the consequences."

"Gibbs" she whined, "You are not being fair. . ."

"Are you being fair to McGee? Have you even told him what he's done . . .because he sure as hell doesn't seem to know and you have stonewalled every effort he has made to find out! You refuse to talk to him and you won't talk to anyone else . . .it damn sure doesn't seem like you are in any hurry to sort this out."

"McGee will get over it."

"Get over what, Abby?" He grasped her by the shoulders, resisting the urge to shake her until her eyeballs rattled. "Get over what?"

"Look, Gibbs," she said, pulling away, "relationships fail . . .I don't need to tell you that, do I. It wasn't meant to be."

"Did he treat you bad, Abby? Did he do or say something to hurt you? Give me some reason. . .?"

"I can't."

"Or won't. Damn it! I do not want my team torn apart by this, Abby. You sort it out. . ."

"I have to go. My cab will be here in 30 minutes."

"Where ya' going?"

"Geez! What's with the third degree! I'm taking a long weekend . . .I am not on call and I am taking some comp time. . .I just have to go up and sign off the paperwork with the Director." She explained

"Sort your life out, Abs." It was the harshest he had ever spoken to her and he saw the flash of angry tears she forced back. He pecked her on the cheek to soften the criticism "We all want our happy, huggy Goth back," he told her as he walked away from her and hit the call button for the elevator. 

~~NCIS~~ 

Pamela Cook, the Director's assistant looked up as Abby entered her office and nodded to acknowledge her presence as she finished her phone call. Abby wheeled her suitcase against the cabinets lining the wall opposite the desk.

"Going somewhere nice?" she queried.

"Yeah, a weekend away." Abby confirmed, without giving any details. "I just need to sign off the paperwork."

"Of course. Please have a seat; the Director will be with you shortly."

"Oh, I don't need to see him; I can just sign the forms."

"The Director needs to see you before you leave." The assistant informed her with a cold smile.

Abby took a seat, though clearly uncomfortable at being kept waiting, her feet jingling with the rattle of the chains on her boots. "This is like waiting outside the Principles office," she muttered.

"Were you there often?" Ms Cook queried in a way that showed she thought the notion was a distinct possibility

"Often enough to know that being called onto the carpet is not usually a positive experience."

"I'm sure you'll be fine," she assured her, reaching over to answer as the buzzer sounded on the intercom. "Ms Sciuto is here, Sir. Yes, Sir."

"The Director will see you now, Ms Sciuto."

Abby was very aware of the heavyweight clomping of her boots as she entered into the office. The Director was typing at his keyboard, teetering piles of files covering most of the surface of the desk and the sideboard behind him. With no chair in front of the desk for visitors, Abby had no choice but to stand as he finished his task and brought his attention to her.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Ms Sciuto," he asked coolly

"You wanted to see me, Sir. . .Director,"

"Indeed."

"I. . .I need to sign a leave request. I'm going out of town . . . family emergency. . .sort of, last minute change of plans. I have some comp time saved up and we are not on call this weekend," she babbled.

"And you think the Agency can spare you," he queried.

Abby tossed her head and gave him the grin that usually got her what she wanted. "No one is indispensable, Director. We don't have a case right now and even though no one else is quite as good as me and I know I will have to sort out all sorts of mess-ups when I get back because the TAD techs never seem to be able to follow my system, even though I leave them instructions. . . ."

He held up a hand to halt her tirade before she got into a full throttle rant.

"Have you organized cover?" he asked her.

"Yes, Sir. Mark Brady will cover from the Norfolk Labs unless we specifically need someone here, in which case he will come and work from my Lab."

"Very well," he answered pulling a form from the top folder on his desk and signing his name with a flourish. He handed her the form.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Not so fast, Ms Sciuto. There is a more serious matter that has been brought to my attention."

"Oh?"

"I'm sure you must be aware of what this matter pertains to, Ms Sciuto."

"Me, Sir? No, Sir."

"So you have no idea why I have received several complaints about your behavior over the last two weeks? . . .I find that a little hard to believe, Ms Sciuto."

"Complaints!"

"Yes, Ms Sciuto. I am also aware that the scuttlebutt doing the rounds concerns the ongoing estrangement between yourself and Agent McGee."

"Did McGee complain about me?" She demanded.

"No. The complaints that have made it as far as my desk have all come from other departments. . .I have yet to receive an official complaint from anyone on Gibbs' team. . .including Agent McGee."

"And just what am I being accused of?" she demanded.

"I think unprofessional conduct probably covers the majority of the complaints. Creating a hostile workplace would be another. Several people have commented that they have found your behavior and attitude to Agent McGee to be unacceptable, bordering on outright harassment and they have made a particular reference to the fact that despite your behavior towards him they have never observed Agent McGee retaliating to your overtly aggressive attitude except to question it. Questions to which you have yet to give an answer."

"It has nothing to do with work and it is no one else's business . . . Sir."

"And yet it is affecting not only your own team but other departments within the Agency," he challenged.

"It will blow over," Abby assured him with a dismissive wave of her hand. "It always does."

"How can I be sure of that, Ms Sciuto, because, from what I have observed in the past, it has always been Agent McGee who has affected a reconciliation between you when your behavior has caused a breech. . .and yet this time, when things seem to have reached a breaking point you are not willing to enable him to do that," he challenged. "Can you offer any explanation for your behavior towards your colleague? Has he committed any breaches of work-place regulations or ever treated you in an unprofessional manner?"

"No, Sir." She admitted.

"Do I need I remind you that this is a Federal Agency and not a high school. I expect you to keep your private life off the job and to behave in a professional manner towards all of your work colleagues at all times."

"Yes, Sir."

"Then consider this an official reprimand, Ms Sciuto, a note of which will be placed in your personnel file for a period of one year. Any future incidents of a similar nature will be treated with the utmost seriousness. There are some major changes ahead for the Agency Ms Sciuto, and, as you so rightly pointed out earlier, nobody is indispensable!"

"A reprimand! What about Agent McGee. . .?" she demanded, temper taking over from good sense.

"What about Agent McGee? As far as I can see he has nothing to explain or apologies for. Nobody has brought forward any complaints about Agent McGee's behavior. . .not even you. When he returns from leave I expect your attitude towards him to be exemplary. . .I'm not asking for him to be your best buddy but I do expect you to treat him with the respect he deserves. . .or you will answer to me. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Director."

"Very well, we will consider the matter closed. Have a good weekend, Ms Sciuto," he dismissed her. 

~~NCIS~~

"Gibbs!" The word cracked with the force of a pistol shot as Abby stomped off the elevator with a head of steam set to blow.

"You need something, Abs?" If Gibbs was any judge, this clearly had the potential to go bad in a hurry.

"You bet I do, Mister."

She grabbed his arm and pulled him out of his chair and towed him around of the back of the staircase.

"Did you know he was going to do that?" she demanded. "Ten years! Ten years I've worked here with a spotless record and he goes and slaps a disciplinary notice in my file. It sure as hell isn't fair. My private life is my business and it has nothing to do with anyone else. . .what about disciplinary protocols, verbal warnings, performance reviews. . .he can't do that to me and expect to get away with it. I want you to fix this, Gibbs. You fix this right now!"

"Nothing I can do, Abby. Everyone may consider you to be on my team but the Director is your line manager, disciplinary matters are in his hands."

"Talk to him, Gibbs. . .he'll listen to you. . .make it go away."

After reading the reports she and McGee had written on their return from Mexico, Gibbs was in no mood to act as an advocate for her; this disciplinary matter might be too little, too late but he was damned sure it wasn't undeserved. She had skated on thin ice often in the past without consequence, partly his fault he was forced to admit, but this was a dose of medicine she needed to swallow.

"Don't you have a taxi waiting, Abby?"

"You're not going to do anything," she hurled the accusation with unusual vehemence.

"No Abby, I'm not. . ."

"Then let me talk to McGee . . ." she said fishing her cell out of her pocket, "if he talks to Vance he can smooth it over."

Gibbs took the phone from her hand and cancelled the call. "Not going to happen, Abs. McGee has already gone on leave and I have told him not to take any work calls. He is taking a much needed break and you will 'not' disturb him. Do you understand?"

"Why does he get the kid gloves all of a sudden?" she demanded.

"Because he deserves it." He really didn't like this Abby and he wasn't in the mood to indulge her. "You did this, Abby. You brought it on yourself. Everyone on the team has given you the chance to change things over the last two weeks and you have shot us all down."

"Gibbs. . . you're not being nice," she whined, hoping her pout would have its usual effect on him.

"Cruel to be kind, Abs."

"And you're not going to help me?"

"Abby, my door is open. . .that's not gonna' change but I can't fix this for you."

"Fine! I don't have time for this. Guess I'll see you on Monday." She stalked off in a huff without saying goodbye. 

~~NCIS~~

On Monday morning Gibbs was in early and on his second coffee by the time the rest of the team put in an appearance. Rather more by luck than judgment Abby arrived just after Tony and Ziva and stopped off in the Bullpen rather than going directly to her lab.

"Hey, Guys." Her greeting and manner were far more subdued than they were used to and she looked even more pale and washed out than normal; even her attire, while still distinctly Goth, was less flamboyant.

"Abby it is good to see you," Ziva was the first to greet her. "Did you have a good weekend?"

"Uh,huh."

It was painful to see her so uncharacteristically quiet and it prompted Tony to get up from his desk and embrace her. "You look like you could use a hug, Abs," he whispered to her.

"Sorry, Tony," the whispered, tearful apology was clearly meant to cover a multitude of sins.

"I know you are, but it's not me who needs to hear it Abby," Tony muttered quietly nodding to McGee's empty desk beside his own.

"I know," she acknowledged, disentangling herself and turning to face Gibbs

"Abby, I'll walk you to the lab," Gibbs produced a cup of Caf-pow from under his desk with a smile and hooked his arm through hers as he led her to the back elevator, calling back over his shoulder to his two agents, "You two, find something useful to do. The Director has called a meeting for all staff in the main conference room at 9am. Don't be late."

"You OK, Abs?" Gibbs asked as the elevator doors closed.

"I'm still mad with Vance about the wrist slap," she replied, "but I know I was out of line. . .I'll try to do better. I let you down, Gibbs."

"No Abby, you let yourself down. . .a lot of people were upset by your behavior. Now you have to work hard to rebuild the respect you squandered," he told her gently.

"When's McGee back?"

"He's off for two weeks. . . gives you some time to work out how you are going to handle working with him again because I won't accept a rift in the team."

"Oh!"

"Ball's in your court, Abby. I know you'll do the right thing." 

~~NCIS~~

The conference room was crowded and there was a low level hum of conversation as the staff waited for the Director to begin.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if I may have your attention. As you know the planned move of NCIS Headquarters from the Navy Yard to Quantico has been long anticipated and, due to ongoing budget cuts, delayed several times. I do appreciate the uncertainty caused by these delays and thank you for your continued patience.

"I can now announce that we will begin the process of transferring operations to the new site in approximately twelve weeks. The technical infrastructure is now in place and the new IT system is up and running and is undergoing testing to eliminate any bugs. A private contractor has been appointed to transport all the archived case files and evidence in advance of the transfer and will be responsible for the transportation of all other office equipment and hardware.

"It is intended that there will be two MCRT units based at Quantico, supplemented by an OSP team modeled on the highly successful unit in Los Angeles. A Washington field office will be based at Bolling Air Force Base comprising of a MCRT and a Domestic Violence unit.

"All technical and scientific services for the region will be based at Quantico. The cybercrimes department and IT support along with all personnel and administrative services will also be based at headquarters. With the closure of the Armed Forces Institute of Pathology, Quantico will be a major centre for forensic and pathology services for the region and will be expanded to meet the extra demands placed upon it. It is anticipated that there will be a staff of three full time Medical Examiners supported by a team of autopsy technicians. There will be a suite of scientific labs equipped with the latest technology, under the leadership of a senior scientific officer, staffed by four full time forensic scientists who will be lab based and at least one mobile crime scene team who will go out to support Field Agents at crime scenes.

"At the moment it is not anticipated that there will be any forced reduction in manning as a result of this move, in fact we will be taking on more IT and Scientific staff and reassigning Field Agents from other areas to cover the new teams . Staff will be asked to state a preference in those cases where there is an option for location of employment and, where job specifications are different from current contracts, employees in post will be given priority in the application process. However, it is hoped that most staff will transfer to Quantico. For those whose present residence would involve a long commute to Quantico assistance will be offered to facilitate relocation. Priority for temporary Base Housing will be given to employees with families.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, change is never easy or comfortable but I expect the dedicated men and women of this Agency to work together to make the transition as seamless as possible. Details of the changes specific to each department will be forwarded by email and beginning next week all employees will have the opportunity to discuss their personal situations with myself or with a representative of the HR department. I expect job interviews to begin next month."

"Any questions?"

The room was filled with an agitated buzzing of whispered conversations but only Tony raised his hands and spoke above the babble. "Director, what about those employees who are absent?" Tony asked. "Won't they miss out?" he questioned, thinking of McGee.

"No. No one will be disadvantaged by this process. Details of this announcement will be forwarded to all those who are currently deployed out of area, on vacation or on sick-leave. Three months is an adequate time to accommodate all employees."

"Ok, people. Let's get back to work." The Director announced, heading for the door and leaving behind a roomful of agitation.

"Ziva, Tony . . .go get coffee for everyone," Gibbs instructed, handing over a handful of bills. "We'll adjourn down to autopsy and you can all get your grousing over in one fell swoop."

"On it, Boss." 

~~NCIS~~

"What's going to happen, Gibbs?" Abby asked when they all finally gathered in Autopsy.

"You heard the man, Abs."

"But you said you wanted to keep the team together and now everything is going to change. . .they're messing with us and it won't be the same. . .I won't have my own lab and I will have to work with other people under my feet and you know I hate that . . ."

"Abbigail, my dear, you could be running the whole department," Ducky pointed out, hoping to direct her attention in a more positive direction.

"But we won't be a team anymore!" she all but wailed.

Gibbs could see the whole team needed answers and reassurance but he wasn't sure he could give them what they wanted.

"I can't make decisions for anyone else, Abby. Every one of you is going to have to decide what is best for your own careers. Yes, I want to keep the team together but I am only a couple of years away from mandatory retirement and there are opportunities for advancement for the rest of you that I cannot ignore. Tony, you have the experience and the expertise to head up your own team. Ziva you may want to think about getting experience in another specialty and, Abby, as Ducky said, you have the chance to apply to run your own department".

"Dr Mallard? What about us?" Jimmy asked.

"Ah, Mr Palmer. I will not be transferring when the move comes," Ducky explained, gently. "I look upon this as a gentle nudge that it is long past time for me to retire. I am too old and set in my ways to want to move again and I have so many things I want to do whilst I still have my health and the energy to do them."

"Aw, Hell, Duck!"

"Do not fret, Jethro, I am quite at peace with the decision. The Agency will retain my services as a civilian consultant. . .you won't get rid of me quite so easily."

"Won't be the same without you, Duck."

"Dr Palmer is more than ready to step into my shoes, Jethro."

"Dr Palmer, I have already forwarded my recommendation to the Director that you are more than qualified for the post of Junior Medical Examiner under the new regime, should you decide to apply for it." Ducky informed his protégé.

"Thank. . .thank you, Dr Mallard. Your endorsement means more than I can say. . . but are you really sure you want.. . "

"Entirely certain, Lad. Entirely certain." He affirmed with gentle good humour.

"Boss, what will you do?" Tony asked. He had a pretty good idea of which way Gibbs' choice would go and he was not disappointed.

"My Job, DiNozzo! I'll serve out my time at Quantico till they put me out to pasture."

"That's great, Gibbs, I thought you might choose the Washington field office. At least I will get to see you at work." Abby said, clearly cheered by his decision.

It was only when they were in the elevator that Tony addressed the subject that had been touched upon whilst down in Ducky's abode.

"What about McGee, Boss?"

"Yes, Gibbs, no one considered where McGee fitted into the new plans," Ziva commented.

"You never mentioned your preference either, Ziva."

"I will stay on your team, Gibbs, if you will have me. I still have much to learn." It earned her that very rare and special Gibbs smile.

"And McGee, Boss?"

"He will have to make his own decision, same as everyone else. He has enough seniority to lead his own team if he wants it," Gibbs reminded them. "Whatever you may think, he is not a probie anymore, he is a seasoned and very well qualified Field Agent.

"Perhaps it will depend on Abby," Ziva offered. "If they do not make peace will he still wish to work with her. . .she has not been very nice to him recently."

"Abby knows what I expect of her. . .she has had a wake-up call and she knows I won't accept her bringing her personal issues into work." It was odd to hear Gibbs being anything other than totally supportive of Abby.

"You think McGee can get past this, Gibbs?"

"He's forgiven her often enough in the past, Ziva. . . Probie is the last person to hold a grudge.. . .Right , Boss?"

"Hope you're right, DiNozzo." Gibbs muttered but he wasn't so sure; everyone had their limits and they all had to hope that McGee hadn't finally reached his.

TBC

A/n Thank you to everyone who left feedback or how signed on for alerts. Your support is much appreciated. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

McGee's first day back was never going to be easy but it wasn't destined to be a normal day. A phone call on Sunday evening from the boss warned him that the whole team were needed for a joint operation with the FBI. Fornell's team wanted NCIS backup to take down a militia group with links to a former Naval Commander thought to be behind the disappearance of weapons from a weapons research facility. With a joint briefing set for 08.30hrs at Quantico he was going to have to call and cancel his appointment with Dr Avery.

McGee was at his desk by 06.30 and wading through over two hundred email messages in his inbox by the time the first of his team-mates joined him. He printed out the briefing paper from the HR department that dealt with the proposed move to Quantico and put them in his pack to read at home later.

"McGee, it is good to have you back," Ziva dumped her bag and came over to pull him out of his chair. "You look better," she assessed, looking into his face and seeing a calm and a confidence there that she hadn't seen for as long as she could remember. "You have a tan. . .did you find a nice beach somewhere to while away the hours while we covered your work?" she teased gently.

He smiled and nodded. "A friend lent me the use of his cabin. There was a beach. . .but it was at a lake in the mountains and I think any tan is probably more wind-burn and rust than suntan. . .just my luck, it rained most days."

"But you had time to rest and think, yes?"

"Yes. Jethro and I walked and I fished and slept late every day. . .I was very lazy and I should feel guilty but I can't say that I do."

"And no phones or internet?" she queried.

"Only if I walked the three miles to the local store. I had to leave my car in the town; the track up to the cabin wasn't suitable for anything but a truck."

"And did you visit the town?"

"Only twice. . .I thought I'd miss being out of touch. . .but actually it was quite liberating. I didn't realize just how much of my time is stolen by being online," he explained. "I did some writing and I read five novels."

"Probie!" DiNozzo was clearly delighted to have the team back together.

"Tony. What have I missed?"

"Did you get the briefing paper from HR? Big changes ahead, Probie. Big changes."

"I haven't had a chance to study it. . .are we all being transferred to Quantico?"

"If we want to. . .Gibbs wants to keep the team together but he is leaving it up to us to make the decision for ourselves."

"No time for gossiping, DiNozzo." Gibbs swept into the bullpen, coffee in hand. "Welcome back McGee. Everything OK?"

"Yes, Boss," Gibbs studied him for a long moment and was obviously reasonably pleased with whatever he saw.

"Come on, we're meeting Abby down in the evidence garage to get set up with comms. McGee, I'll brief you on the case on the drive over to Quantico.

"Yes, Boss."

"Yes, Gibbs."

"On your six, Boss."

If the team were hoping for a friendly reconciliation between McGee and Abby they were disappointed. McGee greeted her with quiet civility, her response was a bare nod of acknowledgment, only proceeding to a verbal greeting when Gibbs flashed her a sharp signed reprimand. McGee busied himself with the technology, passing earpieces and wrist microphones to the rest of the team, ignoring the silent conversations going on around him. During his time away he had made peace with the fact that he could no longer tolerate wasting any more of his life trying to understand or accommodate Abby into his life. Dr Avery's insights were finally making sense and giving him the strength to move on.

Abby thought she had managed to use the two weeks McGee was away to bury deep the negative feelings she had developed towards her former friend. She was shocked to discover that just the sight of him brought back a swell of anger so deep and powerful that it overwhelmed any chance of hiding her feelings. Gibbs's signed reprimand jolted her enough to allow her to force a greeting but there was no disguising that it was as insincere as it was forced. Even as she hugged the anger deep within she saw the disappointment on the face of her team-mates and the resignation from McGee.

NCIS 

"AGENT DOWN! AGENT DOWN!"

"We need back up over here."

"Medics!"

"GIBBS! PROBIE!"

The calls were urgent and went out over the comms, competing for notice against the continued rattle and pop of gunfire. Ziva and Tony worked together in their sector, Ziva laying down covering firing as Tony worked his way to where he had seen both of his colleagues fall.

Blood was the first thing he noticed as he saw McGee leaning over Gibbs. An ever enlarging pool of gore was spreading around them.

"Tony! He's bleeding out. Help him!" McGee, pale and clearly going into shock had one ruined, bloody arm cradled against his chest and the other hand pressed hard against Gibbs' leg, blood oozing between his fingers. Several more shots cracked as the last of the suspects chose to go out in a hail of bullets.

Ziva left the FBI agents to deal with the crime scene as DiNozzo called out for assistance, yelling for the medics as she ran.

"Ziva, look after McGee. . .come on , Boss. . .you still with me?" Tony nudged McGee aside as he slid to the ground

Gibbs was sprawled on the floor, his left leg at an impossible angle and blood was pulsing from a hole behind his knee. Tony pulled out his belt and tied a tourniquet above the wound, pulling it tight until the bleeding slowed. Extra bodies converged on their position. "Come on , Boss, this is no time to fall asleep on the job."

"Tony," Gibbs muttered as the medics took over , applying a pressure dressing to the wound and inserting an IV line into the back of his hand.

"Yeah, Boss."

"McGee? How's McGee?" he muttered through gritted teeth.

"The medics are working on him now. . .I think he took a bullet in his arm. . .he looked after you till we got here, Boss," Tony assured him. "Ziva, how's McGee?" he called

"He. . .He passed out. The EMTs have moved him to the ambulance. He has lost a lot of blood but they are getting him stablised." She reported.

"Take charge of their weapons and go with McGee to the ER. . I will stay with Gibbs," Tony instructed. "Fornell's lot can deal with the crime scene. I'll call it in to HQ and let Ducky and The Director know."

NCIS 

Waking up from anesthesia was never a pleasant experience; the wooly head, the even woollier throat and the knowledge that you should be feeling pain. . .though for some reason, in this case the expected pain was completely absent.

As McGee cracked open his eyes he took in his surroundings with a sense of detachment because rational thought seemed just too difficult; an IV stand holding a bag of clear fluid and a bag of blood, a heart-rate monitor with the volume turned right down to a barely audible beat, an oxygen tube irritating his nose. Most bizarrely of all, suspended from a stand on the other side of the bed an arm, heavily swathed in bandages with metal rods sticking out at odd angles and the elbow fixed at a ninety degree angle. He vaguely wondered who the arm belonged to. . .clearly not him; there was no pain, no sensation and no movement.

"Timothy, are you with us?" he recognized the gentle scottish brogue. Just that presence reassured him that it was safe to sink back into oblivion.

When next he surfaced the room was filled with sunlight and the rest of the medical detritus was still there and instead of Ducky's lilting voice it was Ziva who greeted him.

"McGee, welcome back. It is time to wake up. Tony has been sitting here all night waiting for you to wake and he will be most cross to know you waited until five minutes after he left to finally stop snoozing."

"How long. . ." he muttered wanting to get his bearings.

"You were injured yesterday. You had a helicopter ride here to Bethesda and you were in surgery for several hours."

"What's the damage?" he asked after she spooned ice chips onto his tongue.

"Just your arm, Tim. . .but . . "

"Is that really my arm. . .I can't feel it and those fingers appear not to be responding to instructions!" she could hear the edge of panic in his voice.

"It is all right, Tim," she reassured him. "I will go and get your doctor or Ducky so they can explain it all to you."

"Are the others here. . .Oh, no. . .Gibb!" the memory of the fire-fight finally caught up with him and that final view of Gibbs bleeding out as his own world had turned black, caused the bleeping of the heart-rate monitor to race.

" Be calm. He is here too, Tim. He is in ICU. They had to take him back to theatre in the early hours but his doctors are optimistic that he will recover." She assured him, pressing the nurse-call button beside the bed. "The others are all upstairs waiting for a chance to see him now that he is awake."

"Good. He shouldn't be alone."

"We will make sure neither of you are alone, Tim. Ducky arranged for you to have a double room, when Gibbs is fit to leave the ICU you will have a room-mate. . .and until then we are sharing the daytime baby-sitting duties." A nurse bustled in and took his vitals and inserted medication into the IV line in his neck.

Tim was finding hard to focus. "Did anyone call. . . my family?"

"Yes. The Director spoke to your mother and she will be here tomorrow; apparently your father is in Europe at a NATO conference and will be back in two weeks, unless you want him here earlier."

"No. . .I can wait. . .as long as I am not on my last legs." He muttered as sleep pulled him back into the void.

"You are not going to die, Timothy McGee. You do not have Gibbs permission and he would chase you into the hereafter to head-slap you back to life if you even think about it," Ziva whispered to her sleeping friend.

"Ziva?" Ducky popped his head around the door and whispered to gain her attention.

"Oh, Ducky, he was awake but you have missed him again . . . he is finding hard to stay awake. He knows about Gibbs but he has not yet spoken to his doctor about his own injuries," Ziva explained. She could hear other familiar voices in the corridor but Ducky held the door so that no one else could come in and disturb his rest.

"Better that he rest and starts to heal."

Ziva followed Ducky out into the corridor to find Tony and Palmer at the nursing station. "How is Gibbs?"

"Miserable," Ducky confirmed. "He is recovering from his second dose of anesthesia in less than twenty four hours and he would be fighting about every monitor and catheter if he had the strength to lift a finger. . .he does not take being powerless well." It was an understatement they all understood. . .they all knew Gibbs to be a terrible patient.

"And his injuries?" Ziva queried.

Ducky sighed. "His leg is a mess. The bullet entered from the back and shattered his knee joint and caused a lot of soft tissue damage. He is going to be on traction for weeks. His Doctors are still very worried about blood flow to his lower leg, that's why the called in a specialist vascular surgeon for his second trip to the OR," Ducky explained.

"Is Abby still with him?" Ziva asked.

Tony grimaced but nodded. "The staff shooed us all out so Gibbs could get some rest. . .Abby insisted on waiting in the visitors lounge up there until they allowed another visit."

"Did she even ask about McGee?"

"Not a word!"

"What the hell is wrong with her. . .it's like we've lost our Abby and had her replaced by an evil-twin lookalike."

NCIS 

It was another day before Tim was awake to hear his own Doctor's diagnosis.

"Your forearm was severely damaged by the bullet, Agent McGee. The radius and ulna were both shattered, mid shaft, as you can see from the x-ray. There was also extensive tissue damage. . ."

"And my hand?" Tim interrupted. "I can't feel my arm or my fingers. . .it's like they belong to someone else."

" We used a nerve block to help control pain for the immediate post-op period. . .that should wear off over the next day or so and when it does you will be able to control the amount of analgesia you require, within certain limits. Your hand and wrist escaped injury but we will be able to fully assess the impact of the damage to nerves and tendons as healing progresses. The external fixator rods will stabilize the fractures until we are able to go back in and do an internal repair to plate the bones and the tissue swelling has reduced enough to further evaluate the nerves and tendons," the doctor explained.

"How long will I have to stay here?"

"Until we are able to remove the pins and set your arm in a cast. . .minimum of a week but it could be much longer depending on how quickly you heal. You will require at least one more surgery. This is going to be long process and as it is your dominant arm you are going to be out of action for a considerable time."

"Doctor, will I regain full function?" The doctor could see that full information was really important to this patient; he didn't want to be fobbed off with false hope.

"It is too early to tell. It is possible. . .but it is also possible that there will be some degree of motor or sensory deficit . A lot will depend on how much damage there is and on how hard you work on the rehab. . .it is very important that you follow the therapist's guidance," the doctor explained.

"Thank you." It was a lot to process and for once McGee was relieved that the team had been called back to work and he had the privacy to think in peace.

By the time his Mother arrived he was in pain and he was grateful for the chance to vent the fear and worry that he felt unable to share with his team mates.

Later in the day McGee woke from an analgesia induced doze to discover that he now had a roommate. The privacy curtain between the two beds had been pushed back and Gibbs was there beside him, pale, gaunt and unshaven but clearly very much alive. It was only upon seeing him that Tim realized he had secretly feared that the Boss had been killed and that his team mates had been shielding him from the truth.

Tim had shed many of the monitors and catheters over the previous few hours and was anchored to bed only by the one remaining IV and by the pole that supported his immobilized arm. He was still on bed rest but his most recent trip to the x-ray department had been accomplished in a wheelchair. Gibbs, on the other hand was inescapably confined to bed, his injured leg raised on a supporting frame and attached to a weighted traction system by metal pins through his thigh. A nurse slipped in every fifteen minutes to make a note of his vitals and to check the circulation in his toes.

Maintaining a sense of privacy during doctors' rounds and personal care issues wasn't easy with the two of them in close proximity but McGee had Tony raid his apartment for a couple of MP3 players and headphones to at least help the process.

After an initial awkwardness when McGee first introduced his Mom to his Boss, Sheila soon became a willing gofer for the two men, she fetched coffee and take-out when Gibbs grimaced at the hospital fare, found two chess sets for them to play against each other and raided the hospital library for them.

With the team back at work and only able to visit in the evenings or during their lunchbreaks the two hospitalized teammates settled into a companionable accommodation, both quiet and self sufficient, both loners by circumstance rather than choice, they were easy roommates and discovered that when thrown together and without the boss/subordinate roles to hinder them that they had more in common than either had realized.

The only negative aspect of their enforced incarceration became apparent during visiting hours.

Abby!

She never came alone and Tim was grateful for it. While Abby visited with Gibbs, fussing over him in her own inimitable fashion Tony or Ziva or Ducky would sit and chat to Tim, doing their best to include everyone in the conversation. But nothing seemed to help and the awkward, slightly strained atmosphere that accompanied her visits didn't ease.

She couldn't talk to him. She could barely stand to be in the same room. If she got the choice she would pull her chair as far as she could towards the head of Gibbs' bed, her back to Tim and pull the privacy curtain behind her just far enough to hide herself from his sight.

As the days progressed Tim enlisted the help of Tony and Ziva to give him advance warning of her visits and he would have the nurses help him into a wheelchair and wheel him into the sunroom along the corridor for the duration of her visits. It was a retreat and it was cowardly but he didn't have the energy to confront her and if Gibbs did, it wasn't when Tim was there to hear it.

"Tim? Oh, Tim, what's going on?" Sheila took a seat beside her son in the sunroom. His wheelchair was by a window and he was staring out, his expression as bleak as the rain beating against the glass.

"They want to operate again tomorrow," he explained

"Isn't that good, Tim. . .it's another step towards recovery. . .but this isn't about the surgery, is it" It didn't take maternal instinct to see this was more than pre-surgery jitters.

"They say they'll have a better idea of any long term problems from the tissue damage. . .I'm scared of what they are going to find. . .if I lose function not only will I never go out in the field again but I could lose the ability to type. . ."

"And if you do you will find a way to work around it. . .my son is not a quitter. . .I have complete faith that you would find a way to use your beloved technology to work around any difficulty you can come up with." There was such certainty in her voice but he wouldn't allow himself too much hope. . .too much could go wrong. If there was one thing the writing project Dr Avery had set him had shown him all too clearly it was that where Timothy McGee was concerned 'Murphy's Law' unerringly fell on his shoulders.

"Tim why are you out here when all your friends are together down the hall? Do they know you are scheduled to go down to the OR tomorrow?"

"No, I didn't tell them and I wasn't in the mood for company. . .I didn't have the energy to play happy families!" he explained with an edge of bitterness.

"Is this because of Abby? What did she do, Tim? Last I heard you two were getting on really well and you sounded so happy."

"In her mind it must have been pretty awful but she hasn't felt the need to explain it to me."

"Well, I can see that she has hurt you. . .I've a good mind to go and give her what for. . ."

"NO! Please don't say anything. It will only make things worse. . .it will blow over. . ." Tim couldn't fault the support the team had been to him and Gibbs since the shootings but the strain of Tim and Abby's continued estrangement was wearing on all their nerves.

"Tim! If it blows over!" Tim rarely had rarely heard his Mother sound so exasperated, especially at him. "I will be most displeased if you start appeasing her, just to keep the peace. You have a right to know just what has been going on with her and why she has been treating you so poorly."

Tim grimaced. 'Most displeased' was his mother's code for extremely unhappy and he sincerely hoped that he could get well enough for discharge before there was a confrontation between the two because as mild and maternal as his Mother appeared she had a core of steel and a tongue as devastatingly cutting as anyone he had ever met when defending her brood.

A commotion in the hallway disturbed the peace of the evening and Ziva appeared in the doorway of the sunroom.

"Ziva?" Tim recognized at once the look of concern on her face. "What is it?"

" It is Gibbs. . .he is having problems. . . the nurses shoved us out of the room and they have called his doctors," she explained.

"Is Ducky still here?"

"No. He and Palmer and Abby were called back to HQ for a new case. . .Tony is hanging around the nurses' station to try and find out what is going on," she explained. Tim had them wheel him back towards his room and Tony came to join them.

"They are taking him for some sort of special x-ray," Tony explained. "He complained of sudden pain in his leg. . .he was pale and sweating. I heard the nurse say something about an embolus." Tony was rattled. He hated hospitals and even visiting the others as patients was a challenge; he really, really didn't like medical emergencies. Minutes later a posse of medical staff wheeled Gibbs away on his bed leaving his stunned team watching helplessly.

Later after all the visitors had been ushered away Tim's nurse came in to administer antibiotics into his IV and to settle him for the evening.

"How's Gibbs?' he asked.

"He is still down in the x-ray dept. They are prepping him for an angiogram," she explained.

"Will he be Ok?"

"He is in very good hands, Tim." She tipped a pill into his hand. "Your doctor prescribed it, it is just a mild sedative to allow you to get a good nights' sleep," she explained.

"Can I make a request?" Tim asked, as she turned to leave. 

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The team sat in stunned silence in the OR visitors lounge. Abby and Ziva were both quiet in the aftermath of tears. The news of the crisis had come through at the start of the day and the Director had given them all permission to come to the hospital to await news, aware that none of them were in a fit state to concentrate on work.

"Dr Mallard?" The surgeon came out to speak to them and addressed himself to the ME as the spokesman of the group.

"How is he?"

"Stable. He hasn't woken fully from the anesthesia but his vitals are stable."

"And the surgery?"

"I'm sorry. We have amputated his leg above the knee," the doctor explained. "The damage to the joint was very severe but it was the damage to the blood supply that really compromised the viability of the leg. We were hoping that we could save the leg but in the end the damage was much too severe."

"But he will he recover, won't he?" Abby asked, more subdued than any of them were use to.

"Actually, his recovery will probably be much more rapid and straightforward than it would have been without the amputation. He faced weeks of bedrest and multiple surgeries to repair the damage from the bullet. He is fit and strong and he should be up and mobile within days. We will arrange for him to be transferred to a rehab facility as soon as he is recovered from the surgery."

"When can we see him, doctor?"

"We will be moving him back to his room when he is fully awake from the anesthesia. It would be best if you go down to the orthopedic ward and wait for him there," the Doctor explained.

It was a shock to walk into Gibbs' and Tim's room and find it empty. The bed in Gibbs' space had been cleared of the traction apparatus but his bedside locker still had the flowers Abby had brought in the day before and his books, his chess set and other personal items, including his insulated coffee mug were awaiting his return.

In contrast the other bed, Tim's bed, was empty, cleared and prepped for a new patient. All of Tim's personal possessions had been removed.

Tony, already distressed by the recent news about Gibbs, wasn't ready for another shock. "What the hell!" He searched the locker looking for clues but the cleared drawers and wiped surfaces mocked his desperation.

"Ducky. What is going on?" Ziva asked as she and Palmer stood in the doorway unsure what to do. Abby, after a brief glance, shrugged and whispered to Tony that she was going for coffee.

"Dr Mallard?" the familiar voice broke the silence of their confusion and they all turned to greet Sheila McGee. "May I have a word." She turned away and retreated to the sunroom, expecting him to follow her.

"Of course." Ducky hesitated long enough to round up the rest of the team and herd them from the empty room. "I suggest you all follow Abby and go and get some refreshment while you have the chance. I will find out what is happening here. I will let you know what I find out," he assured them.

"My dear, is everything alright? Where is Timothy?"

"Tim is in the O.R." Sheila explained. "They are hoping to remove the external pins and fix the bones with metal plates . . .Tim is very worried about what damage they will find,"

"And this was planned for today? Why did he not tell us?"

"He didn't want to take the team's focus away from Jethro. . .he knows how worried you all are about him."

"Oh, the silly boy! Does he not know that we worry about him too," Ducky exclaimed.

"Your support means a great deal to him. . . "

"But?"

"But he will never allow himself to push his needs first, especially not at the expense of Jethro. I had quite a shock when I came in today to find that Tim had asked to be moved to a single room when he came back from surgery," she explained.

"It was his request! Why on earth would he do such thing. . . I thought he quite enjoyed having company to help pass the time. . .I was only saying to the Director yesterday how much better the two of them seemed to be getting along. . .and the team likes not having to divide their time during visiting."

"Not all of the team, Ducky!" Sheila explained bitterly. "Ms Sciuto has made her feelings quite plain!"

"Ah. I see. It hasn't escaped our notice that Timothy has been avoiding her, though given her recent attitude towards him it is hardly surprising," Ducky confirmed.

"Jethro couldn't leave the room, Ducky, Tim could. He didn't want to be the cause of awkwardness amongst the team."

"And the move to a single room?"

"I suspect the same reason. His room will be one floor down. The nurse said he will be back in a couple of hours. I know he would appreciate a visit if you can manage it."

"Of course, my dear, we will not allow him to isolate himself," Ducky assured her.

"Just one thing, Ducky. . .please inform Ms Scuito that she is excluded from his visiting list. . .not that I think that will bother her, but I will not have her upsetting him any further. She has hurt him enough."

"I cannot say that I blame you, given her recent behavior: I will make sure your message is passed on. Perhaps that is the jolt she needs to shake her out of her present attitude."

So far the onus had been on Tim removing himself from a situation he found untenable, specifically excluding Abby would strike at her overdeveloped sense of entitlement and hopefully open her eyes to her behavior.

"May I treat you to a cup of tea, My Dear," Ducky asked. "We'll likely have a wait before Gibbs is brought back to the ward and it will help you pass the time before Tim is back."

"Thank you, but I don't want to risk running into Abby down in the café. . . I would probably say something Tim would not like. . .I am very angry at that young lady right now, Ducky. Tim is too polite to confront her but I would have no such reservations."

"Understandable. . .anger is often a mask for fear," he said gently. "How about we wander down the block to that nice little café and I will treat you to brunch. I will let Tony know where we will be," he said, as he led her towards the elevator.

"Have you had any word yet on how Jethro is doing?" she asked. "The nurse wouldn't give me any information when I asked earlier," Sheila explained as they waited for the elevator.

Ducky sighed. "Not good, I'm afraid. They were unable save his leg. . .they had to amputate above the knee," he explained.

"Oh, that's terrible. . .I knew the damage was bad but I didn't realize it was quite so serious. Tim will be very upset when he knows."

"Would you like me to break the news to him, when he is recovered from the anesthesia?" Ducky offered.

"Thank you but I think it would be best to wait and see what the news is about Tim's condition before we decide when to tell him about Jethro. I do not want him to have to deal with more bad news if his own prognosis is as bad as he is imagining."

"Is he really so convinced that it will be bad news?" Ducky asked.

"Ducky, he is not in the best frame of mind right now. . .this thing with Abby has really undermined his spirits. . .A Dr Avery called in to see him this morning before they took him down to the OR and she was quite concerned about his state of mind," Sheila explained. "She said it would be very important to keep a close eye on him over the next few weeks. . .especially if his recovery is very prolonged."

"I know Dr Avery very well and I know she has been working with Tim for a while. . .he is in good hands." The kindly ME assured her.

NCIS 

Tim was in a wheelchair waiting impatiently for his Mom to arrive as soon as his own Doctor had finished his rounds. His first post-op night had been restless, partly because the full arm cast was uncomfortable and heavy but mostly because he couldn't get the news about Gibbs out of his head. His own doctors' were pleased with their discoveries during his surgery and the hopeful prognosis was a huge relief. He still faced a long and painful recovery but he had every hope of eventually getting his field agent status renewed.

When they got up to Gibbs' room Tim and Sheila were surprised to find the Senior Agent already sitting out in an easy chair, dressed in Marine sweats with the trouser leg on his injured side cut off at the knee to allow the nurses to monitor the wound dressing.

"Hey, McGee. How's it going?" Gibbs was listing slightly in the chair.

"Boss, you are looking better."

"Didn't have your snoring keeping me awake last night, McGee," Gibbs grinned.

"You 're very chirpy. Are they giving you the good stuff, Boss?" Tim asked, indicating the IV still attached to the back of Gibbs' hand.

Gibbs nodded and slid further sideways, at imminent danger of landing on the floor. Sheila called for the nurse and between them they got him back into bed. Gibbs just kept nodding and smiling benignly.

"Sweet-talked the nurse into letting me have a shower. . .had to promise to be good for the rest of the day!" Gibbs slurred as he slipped off back to sleep. The nurse dialed back the IV before leaving him to rest.

"Is he OK?" Tim asked the nurse as he passed the nurses' station on the way back to the elevator.

"He's doing really well. We got him out of bed and standing with a frame earlier," she assured him. "We helped him to shower and that is always a milestone when someone has been on bedrest for a while."

"Tell me about it!" Tim groused indicating his own full arm plaster cast.

"Talk to the nurse on your floor, Tim. Someone will be able to help you have a bath without getting your cast wet."

Tim nodded absently, his thoughts still on Gibbs "It hasn't sunk in for him yet, has it?"

"No. He's still on some strong analgesia but it won't fully sink in until he gets to the rehab unit. But he is fit and strong and I can't see him letting this get him down. As long as he can keep a positive attitude, he'll make it."

"He's not going to be able to go back to his old job. . .and that's his life. I know he comes across as all independent and tough but if he doesn't have his job I'm afraid he'll cut himself off and just withdraw."

"I will make a note of your concerns, Tim. We have had a lot of experience with service men and women who have lost limbs and the rehab services have improved a great deal. We have excellent councilors on staff and an enthusiastic network of amputees who give up their time to help new patients learn to deal with their changed circumstances," she assured him.

Tim nodded his thanks and wondered, as his mom pushed him back to his own room, if the rehab staff were quite ready to have Leroy Jethro Gibbs under their wing.

NCIS 

Director Vance halted just outside the door to the autopsy suite with an FBI file tucked under his arm and wondered for the umpteenth time just when his life was going to get less complicated. The transfer to the new HQ was causing some upheaval and the process of interviewing employees who wished to discuss the implications of the move on their careers was occasionally fraught but a necessary step in slotting available staff into new teams. With two of the members of the MCRT on long-term sick leave, decisions about the make-up of the new teams now had to be reconsidered.

And now he had a further complication to deal with.

Dr Mallard was at his desk, conferring with Abby over the video phone when the Director finally entered Autopsy and indicated that the doctor continue until his conversation was finished. When Abby moved out of sight Ducky turned his attention to Vance and was instantly aware of the other man's disquiet.

"Leon, is everything alright?" It clearly wasn't. Ducky couldn't ever remember the Director looking so distressed.

"Sometimes I hate this job, Ducky," he said, handing over the file and taking a seat on the edge of the desk while the ME skimmed through the report and then reread it again more carefully.

"Oh, My!"

"That's more polite than my initial response," the Director commented wryly.

"And there is no doubt, Leon?"

"No. The FBI lab may be slower at getting things done because of their workload but you cannot fault their technical expertise. Fornell did have them check the findings but there really is little room for doubt."

"We must tell them both," Ducky confirmed. "As devastating as this news is, it would be far worse to try and keep it from either of them. . .it is impossible to keep these situations under wraps. No, we must tell them as soon as possible, before they hear it on the grapevine."

"I was hoping you would come with me to the hospital and help me break it to them," the Director said.

"Surely. Does anyone else here know yet?"

"No. The report came directly to me but you know how quickly the grapevine works. We should do it today." Vance confirmed. "There will be time to brief the rest of the team later."

Upstairs in the forensic lab Abby listened in over the audio channel catching the last half of the conversation. A five minute phonecall to a friend in the FBI lab was all it took to have a transcript of the crime scene report winging its way into her email account.

NCIS 

Gibbs appreciated the hospital visits from his team-mates, though now he was on the mend and expending so much energy in working out with the physical therapists he preferred to keep the visits short. He and Tim continued to play chess, mostly by phone or by having the nurses or visitors pass notes of the moves. Sheila continued to act as a willing gofer for both men.

He wasn't expecting to see Ducky and the Director at his door mid-afternoon. His trouble radar twitched.

"There a problem, Leon," he asked, expecting the worst. "Is this where you come to tell me I'm out of a job?"

"You know you'll never be allowed out in the field again, Jethro. " the Director confirmed. "You also know that we will find you a valuable role to tide you over until retirement. . .we are not about to throw your talents and experience out on the scrap-heap. The choice is yours. . .if you want to take a medical discharge then that is your prerogative but there will be no pushing you out."

"So why the long faces?"

"Jethro, we got the crime scene and ballistics report back from the FBI," Ducky replied.

This clearly wasn't going to be good news and Gibbs wanted it straight. "Are you gonna tell me or do I have to guess.?"

"They analyzed the video footage taken at the stake-out and during the fire-fight. I'm sorry, Jethro, but it appears that the bullet that caused your injury was fired from McGee's weapon," Ducky explained.

"What!"

"I'm afraid there is no doubt, Jethro," Ducky confirmed.

"McGee shot me? No, that can't be right. He spotted a sniper and he shouted a warning to me. . .I remember that. . .I made a dive for cover but I wasn't quick enough. I heard the two shots. . .they must have made a mistake!"

"I'm sorry, Gibbs, but it is true; I can have the surveillance footage brought in for you but there really is no doubt. McGee did spot the sniper and he shouted a warning but he was hit by the first bullet. It appears the force of the impact spun him round and he fired off a shot, probably a reflex action," the Director explained. "It wasn't negligence or anything other than an accident. . ."

"Friendly fire!"

"Exactly."

"Does he know?"

"Not yet. We will go and see him when we are done here," Ducky explained.

"I'm coming with you. Get me the wheelchair."

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Jethro." One look on Gibbs' face was enough to convince the ME that his friend wasn't about to back down.

"If I'm fit enough to be tortured to death by sadistic PT instructors then I am well enough to go and reassure my man that I do not hold him responsible for what happened. . .you know him, Duck. If I can't convince him that this was an accident than he will chew himself up with guilt and we will lose him forever. He'll never trust himself to go back in the field. . .it will be like when he shot Benedict all over again, only ten times worse."

NCIS 

Tim was in the sunroom where he could get wireless connection to check for messages on his smart-phone. He hadn't bothered before, he was seeing his work colleagues most days and his Mom was passing on messages from his dad and sister and, besides, he had got out of the habit of being in constant cyber contact during his vacation.

He trawled through the emails in his personal inbox first, replying to his family and to the online friends who had noted his prolonged absence and deleting the spam. There were several email and text messages from Abby that he deleted without bothering to open them. He moved on to his work account and typed in the two different passwords he needed to get through to his work emails, his eye immediately going to the message marked Urgent.

He clicked the link. . .and his world fell apart.

He didn't doubt what he read, written in the impersonal federal-speak language of the report. The words were clear and stark and the conclusion damning. . .Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs' injuries were caused by a shot fired by Special Agent Timothy McGee.

He staggered back to his room in a daze, bumping in to walls and nearly knocking over a lab tech in his haste to get to the bathroom before his stomach betrayed him. He didn't make it. He collapsed in the hallway, insensible to the concern of the staff who swooped into action to help him.

He was in shock, his heart racing and his breathing so rapid and shallow that he was on the point of passing out and the staff couldn't get a word out of him, their words and questions an indistinct murmur drowned out by the incessant buzzing in his ears. _His_ instinct was to run but he hadn't the energy or co-ordination to accomplish the deed. He flinched as he felt the sting of a needle into his hip and he allowed the sedative to wash him under where the horror of his actions couldn't follow him.

Gibbs, Ducky and the Director headed out of the lift and were immediately aware of the hum of tension amongst the staff. Sheila McGee was standing outside the closed door to Tim's room, her expression tight with anxiety.

"What is it, Sheila?" Gibbs propelled his wheelchair towards her leaving his two colleagues trailing in his wake. "What's happened?"

"I'm not sure," she whispered, dashing the wetness from her cheeks with the back of her hand. " The doctor said Tim was ready for discharge tomorrow so I went over to his apartment to get him some clothes. When I got back the nurse said he had had some sort of major panic attack. . .they had to sedate him."

The three men exchanged worried glances, none of them believing that this was a coincidence.

"Damn it!" Gibbs thumped his fist into the wall. " Nurse Wade, who's been to see him?" he demanded of the nurse at the desk.

"No one, Sir."

"Then what the hell happened?"

"We don't know, Sir. Doctor Avery is with Agent McGee. . .he couldn't or wouldn't say . . .it seemed to come out of nowhere. . .he was looking forward to being discharged tomorrow," the nurse explained.

"Ducky?"

"This is beyond distressing, Jethro, especially if it is as we fear and this is a result of him finding out about the report. I recommend that we wait and see what Dr Avery has to say when she and Tim have finished talking. Tim trusts her and she really is the expert. . .we must trust her too."

"What report, Ducky?" Sheila asked.

Ducky took her hand and led her a few steps away from the door. "I'm afraid we had some bad news today and we were hoping to break it to Timothy gently," Ducky explained.

"What, Ducky? Hasn't he got enough on his plate right now! What other bad news does my boy have to face?" she asked tiredly.

"I'm afraid that the bullet that injured Jethro came from Timothy's weapon, my dear," Ducky explained sadly.

NCIS 

"Tim, what happened?" Dr Avery had responded quickly to the call from Bethesda and she was concerned to see how distressed her patient was. The sedative he had been given had calmed him down but it had done nothing to dispel the look of abject defeat in his countenance.

It took him several attempts to force any words past the leaden knot in his throat.

"Me. . .It was me," he choked. Somehow he kept the tears back but only at great cost, his uninjured arm clenched against his throat to contain his bitter shame.

Dr Avery couldn't keep her distance in the face of his pain. She sat beside him on the bed and gently took his hand, unfurling his fingers and chafing warmth back into the frozen digits.

"What was you, Tim?"

"I shot Gibbs. It was me. It was all me!"

"How do you know that, Tim?"

"It's in the report. It's in the FBI report. . .everyone will know. . .I shot Gibbs!"

"Have you spoken to him, Tim?"

"He'll never forgive me. . .I've ruined his life, robbed him of his job. . .how can he ever forgive me for that, Dr Avery? How?"

"Tim. It's an awful thing to have happened but I don't believe for one minute that Agent Gibbs will blame you for this."

"Damn right I don't." Neither of them had heard Gibbs arrive or enter the room. He wheeled his chair right up to the bed and nodded a thankful greeting to Dr Avery before turning his attention back to Tim.

"Look at me, McGee," he ordered. "Come on, Tim, look at me."

"I'm sorry. . .I'm so sorry. . ."

"Tim. . .look at me. This is not your fault, Gibbs asserted forcefully.

"How can you say that. . .I shot you. . .my bullet, my Gun!"

"Did you mean to shoot at me, Agent McGee? Were you aiming your firearm at me during the firefight? Were you?"

"No of course not."

"Did you mean to hurt me?"

"NO."

"Did you stand up and invite the dirtbag to fire at both of us? To shoot you?"

"No, Sir."

"Then how can this be your fault, Tim. It was just a bad situation that went to hell. . .friendly fire, Tim. Friendly fire," Gibbs assured him.

"But your leg. . .your job!"

"Better me than you, Tim."

"NO. Don't say that!"

"Yes. I'm at the end of my working life and I've had a damn good run. Time for me to hang up my badge before I use up the last of my nine lives. You, you're just at the beginning and you have a very bright future ahead of you. My job may be over, Tim but my life isn't and that is all down to you."

"No. . .I don't want my life and my job to be at your expense," Tim said angrily.

"Tim, the worst thing you could do for me right now is to give up on the job you love. . .if you do that then it will be letting the bad guys win. We both have a lot of healing to do and I don't want to get shipped off to rehab tomorrow with the burden of your misplaced guilt hanging round my neck."

"Jethro is right, Timothy," Ducky said from the doorway. "You both need to put all your energy into getting back to full health and fitness. Isn't that right, Director?"

"Need you back with the team, McGee."

"That's a long way off, Director."

"Just so as you realize that we are keeping your spot open. DiNozzo will lead and you will be his second. . .if that's what you want."

"And if I don't get back to field status?"

"Then you will get to choose what other area you want to serve in; intel, OSP, cybercrimes, liaison, management. . .with your skill set you would have your pick. . .I will not let you slip through our fingers, no matter which other Agency wants to steal you away. . .you only get to leave if that's your choice."

"We OK, Tim?" Gibbs asked relieved to see some colour back in McGee's face.

"If you say so, Boss. . .if you're sure?"

"Come and say goodbye before you leave tomorrow. I'll be shipping out to the rehab centre mid afternoon," Gibbs told him before wheeling himself out of the room.

"Agent McGee, I understand you are to be discharged tomorrow. What are your plans?" the Director asked.

"I'm going home to Baltimore to my parents'. I cannot manage on my own at the moment and it's near enough for my mom to drive me to my outpatient follow-up and rehab," Tim explained.

"Can I ask you to call in at Headquarters on your way out of town?"

"Sure, what do you need me to do, Director?"

"Well, it's not likely that you will be back to even desk duty before the move to Quantico, so I need you to sign off on some paperwork with HR."

"Not up to signing anything at the moment, Director Vance," Tim explained indicating to his plaster encased arm. "Might have to sign with an 'X marks the spot'"

"We'll cope. I also need you to go through the files on your computer with one of the IT techs, make sure any case related files are transferred to the central database and that you don't lose any private or personal files in the changeover," Vance explained.

"OK," Tim agreed. "I'll be by mid-morning when they cut me loose from here."

"Thank you." Vance turned to leave, at the door another thought struck him and he turned back. "Tim, I'm sorry that you found out about this report from an unofficial source. . .you didn't deserve to have it thrust upon you out of the blue. Will you tell me how you heard?"

"No. But thank you for wanting to tell me about it yourself, Director. I know this looks bad for the Agency and that it will have to go down against my record but I do appreciate your support. . .and, when he's had time to think about it, if Gibbs wants to file a complaint, I won't fight it."

The Director and Ducky shared a concerned glance but it was Ducky who stepped forward and administered a light but meaningful tap to the back of McGee's head, then tipped up his chin until he had full eye contact.

"Timothy, in all the years you have known him, have you ever heard Jethro say something he didn't mean? Have you?"

"No, Ducky."

"Do you think there is any chance that he is about to change the habits of a lifetime, in that regard?"

"I've crippled him, Ducky!"

"You also saved his life. . .I think that more than covers any debt you think you may owe him."

"But what will he do?"

"Whatever he sets his mind too. . .now that I am about to become a gentleman of leisure, I intend to make good my promise and teach Jethro how to play golf. . .he no longer has the excuse that he is too busy. . .there are a couple of veteran amputees who play at my club who would be more than happy to assist my efforts to get the stubborn so and so out on the greens."

"Have you ever played golf, Tim?" Dr Avery asked. She had retreated to the window to observe the proceedings when the three men had arrived and had been heartened by the support they had all shown to her distressed patient. She could see that he had responded well to their overtures.

"Carried my dad's bag a few times as a teenager but I never got to play. . .wasn't ever much good with ball sports, much to my dad's disappointment," Tim explained.

"Then now is your chance, a goal for you to aim for once that arm heals. . .I shall look forward to beginning the Mallard school of golf for wayward NCIS agents." Ducky announced causing a general outbreak of mirth.

"Goodbye, Dr Avery, it was good to see you again. Please forgive our intrusion, we will leave our friend in your very capable hands. See you tomorrow, Timothy and you just remember what we've said."

"Well, Tim, how do you feel now?" Dr Avery asked.

"Battered," he admitted. "How can he be so calm? How can he pretend that it doesn't matter? I shot him."

"And he trusts you. He knows it was an accident and he has been under fire often enough to know that these things happen. You need to focus on the positives, Tim. You saved his life. . .every time those doubts creep in I want you to tell yourself that. . .You saved his life!"

TBC 


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**  
>This chapter touches on a subject that may be sensitive for some readers. I do not make any value judgements nor is it my intention to cause offense. It is a plot devise that has been hinted at throughout the story and I hope it will be accepted as such.<p>

Thank you to everyone who has responded with reviews, your support is very much appreciated

**Chapter 6**

"Probie!"

"Tony." Tim acknowledged the enthusiastic greeting as he stepped off the elevator into the bullpen and ushered Sheila into his workspace.

"Mrs Probie, a pleasure, as always."

"It's very quiet in here, Very Special Agent DiNozzo," Sheila teased back. "What have you done with Ziva? Has she already abandoned you for pastures new?"

"Nah. The Director has me on cold cases and has banished Ziva to a Probette course to 'update her skills'," Tony responded.

"You OK, Tim?" Tony asked dropping his voice to a whisper. "you look like cr. .death warmed over."

"Thanks for that Tony, I've had better weeks," Tim admitted.

"Look, Tim. . .we all got a copy of that report. . ."

"What? Everyone?"

"Everyone here on the team and in the office. . .the Director is spitting tacks. . .he has Fornell hunting down the leak over at the FBI.. . I would not want to be in the perps shoes when they found out who leaked it."

Tim already had a pretty good idea who had a hand in it but he wasn't about to go bandying about random accusations.

"Great. Now everyone will hate me. . .Gibbs is a legend around here and I will be forever known as the idiot who shot him and ended his career."

"Vance sent out an email confirming the report but reminding everyone that you were the one who warned Gibbs and saved his life. . .no one here blames you, Tim. Every Field Agent knows just how easily it could have been any one of us."

"Listen, Tony, would you take Mom down to see Ducky. . .he promised to keep her company while I see Vance and sort out these computer issues. . .and keep her away from Abby."

"Sure thing. Does the Director know you're here?"

"Not yet," Tim said struggling to power up his computer and log in one handed.

"Hang on, I'll let him know. . .I'm sure he will come to you rather than have you traipsing all over the building." Tony placed the call and then escorted Sheila towards the back elevator.

By the time Tim had seen the Director and had spent a half-hour with Tech Johnson from the IT dept going through the files on his computer he was in need of his next dose of pain meds. While waiting for the medication to kick in, Tim opened his email account and plugged in a data stick to download the messages. He opened up one of several of the new messages from Abby without thinking. The content of the message shocked him. He opened another and then another and they were all similar. . .anger fueled rants on Tim's behavior, his personality and his culpability for Gibbs injury. The anger and the venom shocked him and finally. . .finally the anger and the injustice of her accusations washed over him. With icy calm he downloaded the messages and tucked the data stick into his sling and stalked off towards the elevator, ignoring Tony's concerned call.

He'd done it a million times: walked into her lab to the blaring cacophony of some god-awful music that seared the eardrums and likely killed brain cells. He didn't do anything to announce his presence, she usually sensed when anyone entered her lair. . .this time her senses failed her.

He moved around the long evidence table and stood there waiting and when he finally lost patience he clicked the remote control for her music player and the room was stunned with silence.

He could see the complaint ready to spill from her lips but when she saw who it was the complaint died and her expression shuttered to feigned indifference.

"What do you want?"

He didn't bother to reply. He moved slowly towards her and she backed up, step by step, retreating into her office. She would have closed the door on him but he was too quick and too close. She snatched her cellphone off the desk; he silently plucked it from her hand and dropped it into the trashcan. He kept up his own momentum slowly herding her backwards into the ballistics lab.

"McGee, you're scaring me."

And he was. For the first time ever she was scared of him. . .he was a stranger and any trace of the tender-hearted, soft, geek she had always thought him to be was erased by the cold, hard anger radiating from him.

"McGee!"

"Sit. Down." The order was the first words he had spoken to her and he clearly wasn't expecting her to reply. "Now!"

She had nowhere else to go, she dropped into the chair and watched him warily as he used the remote to lock the door, effectively sealing them into the soundproof room.

"We are going to talk", he informed her. He slipped the remote into his sling and she knew she was trapped until he decided to release them.

"I have nothing to say to you and I have work to do."

"Too bad. We are not leaving until I say so."

"You can't keep me here against my will," she spat, getting up from her seat, only have him loom over her and get right in her face.

"I said, SIT DOWN!" He never touched her but the yell was as effective as a punch.

She crumpled. He had never raised his voice to her like that and she realized too late that this was a man she could no longer manipulate. . .he knew all her tricks and subterfuges and he no longer fell for them.

He pulled a stool up against the door and sank down on it, adrenalin hiding the wash of pain and exhaustion that came from over- exertion.

She spied a light flashing on the phone on her desk in the office; no sound reached them. "I need to take that call, McGee, JAG are waiting for confirmation of results from the Murphy case."

"They will have to wait."

"What's wrong with you, McGee?"

"I have no idea. . .why don't you tell me. . .you clearly think you are the expert on my many failings and deficiencies. . .I bow to your greater wisdom," his quiet venom was all the more potent for being so uncharacteristic.

"I have nothing to say to you," she flashed.

"Then we are going to be here for a very long time."

The silence lasted for a long time, or at least it felt like a long time to Abby. He had called her bluff and for the first time that she could remember he had the upper hand.

"OK. What do you want?" she finally demanded when the silence got to her.

"I want to know what I did? I deserve to know what I did that was so awful that you felt the need to cut me off without so much as an explanation. I deserve to know why you would throw away seven years of friendship. . "

"No!"

"No. . .just like that. . .you really are a piece of work, Abby. . .your arrogance astounds me. . .it shouldn't after all these years of being a witness and a victim to your self-centered , egotistical self-absorption but it still does. More fool me for thinking you have a spark of decency."

"You don't know anything, McGee."

"True, I don't but that is because the one class I never took in school was mind reading!"

"Let me go, McGee," she pleaded finally giving in to tears.

"You can turn off the waterworks, Abby. . .it's not going to work on me this time. . .I'm not Gibbs and there is no one coming to save you from the big, bad, mean McGee. .. we are going to deal with this, here and now," he informed her harshly.

"I'm not going to play your game, McGee. I don't have to tell you anything."

"You see, Abby," McGee spoke as if he hadn't heard her, "I've had a lot of time to think over the last few weeks. If you don't want to talk, then you'll just have to hear the theory I have come up with."

"Whatever!"

"A very mature response. . .not that I expected any better."

"Just get on with it so we can both get out of here."

"I think it is like I explained to Gibbs and Ducky a few weeks ago. . .when you saw how hard and how quickly I fell for Amanda your jealousy kicked in and you realized that there was maybe someone out there who would take an interest in me and you would no longer have your tame patsy waiting in the wings when your next loser boyfriend saw through your shallow act," he threw at her.

"She was an assassin, a fake," she spat back.

"And she was also young and interesting and pretty!" he shot back. "But you were the one who was so desperate for us to get back together, even when I wasn't so keen. . .or maybe because I wasn't so keen. Was that it Abby, you just wanted to prove once again that I was a push over?"

"No, it wasn't like that," she protested.

"You wheedled and plotted and you pulled me in, because let's face it, after dangling me like a puppet for eight years you knew just which buttons to press, didn't you? And then when you had achieved your goal and you had me believing that you really cared for me. . .that you loved me, you threw me aside like a worthless handful of trash!"

"Now you're just being nasty," Abby whispered.

"I learned from the best, Abby. . .I learned from you," he told her.

"Just let it go, McGee. It's over between us. Just let it go."

"So I was talking to Dr Avery and we were discussing anger," Tim continued, "and she commented that anger was often a cloak people use to mask other emotions they don't want to face. . .like fear. . . and I got to thinking that maybe that's where your anger came from. . .but I don't think I have ever given you a cause to fear me. . ."

"You're scaring me now. . .and you're damn right I'm angry. . .You shot Gibbs!"

". . .That's just a smoke screen, Abby. . .you were mad at me long before Gibb's was injured."

"He was shot!. . .He was shot, McGee. . .he was shot by you. . .crippled by you!"

"He was shot in the line of duty. . .yes, the bullet came from my weapon but I would rather have shot off my own leg than hurt him and everyone but you knows that. . .even Gibbs. If he doesn't blame me then what gives you the right to throw that in my face. . .besides, as I said, that is irrelevant. You were mad at me before!"

"Whatever."

"So having worked out that it wasn't fear you were hiding, I got to wondering what else it could be and do you know what I came up with, Abby?"

"No. Enlighten me."

"Guilt!"

" Guilt! Oh, please. You don't know anything."

"You see all these week I have been trying to work out what I did that was so awful. What 'I' did that was so unforgivable that you could no longer bear to be in the same room as me and I kept coming up blank. . .but it wasn't me, was it? It was your own guilty conscience."

"Let me out, McGee. I will not discuss this."

Tim ignored her and kept his back to the door. "So what was it, Abby? What did you do? Were you unfaithful? Did you know that infidelity was a deal breaker for me."

"No, I wasn't unfaithful," she yelled.

"But there was something. . .wasn't there," he yelled back."You did something you knew was so unforgivable that you have been tearing yourself up about it. You have been so screwed up with guilt that you had to take it out on me. . .didn't you?"

He knew her too well. She had always thought she could read him like a book but somewhere along the line he had learned to read her too. He saw too much and she had nowhere to hide. Her anger spiked and her response was to lash out.

"You got me pregnant, McGee. . .there, are you happy now!"

Whatever he had been expecting to hear, it wasn't that. He was so shocked he could barely form a coherent thought. He thought back to her mood swings and her unusual pallor and it suddenly all slotted into place.

"You told me you had contraception sorted out. . .you showed me the implant pellet in your arm. . .you assured me that we didn't need to worry about condoms."

"Well it failed. . .contraception is not a perfect science." She flounced, defending her actions.

"And you couldn't have explained earlier? What did you think I would say? I know a family wasn't in our immediate plans but it's not a disaster. . .you know that I will support you. . . I have always wanted a family."

"I'm not ready to be a parent, McGee. . .I don't want the picket fence, 'happily ever after' crap."

" This is my baby, too. And I look on this as a blessing not a disaster .I will be there for you through the pregnancy and when the baby is born and then I'll raise the baby on my own. . . If you don't want to be involved then I'll do it on my own. . .I have family and friends who will be only too happy to help out. . .we can get through this, Abby."

"No, we can't."

"Why not?"

"Because we can't."

"You would keep me from my own child. . .even you can't stoop that low."

"I said you got me pregnant. . .not that I still am!"

"What?"

"I dealt with it. . .there is no baby."

"You dealt with it!"

"Do I really need to spell it out, McGee. . .you know, that 'Woman's right to choose' that you always said you supported," She threw at him.

"And what about 'A Father's rights' that you always claimed was equally as important."

And then it hit him. . .the realization of what she was telling him."Oh, God! Please tell me you didn't?"

"My body, my choice!"

"So our baby was discarded like another piece of useless trash because it was 'inconvenient'"

"I told you, I wasn't ready to be a parent."

"No wonder you have been drowning in guilt!" Tim pinched the bridge of his nose, using the pain to keep his anger sharp and under control.

"And when will you be ready, Abby. . .you will be forty five next birthday. . .that could well have been your one and only chance to have a child. It may suit your distorted self image to pretend to be a perpetual teenager but you are fast approaching middle age and it is time you grew up and started acting your age. Nobody will be buying your little girl lost persona when you reach your fifties. . .Gibbs and Vance and the rest of the team have all caught a glimpse of the real Abby with the way you have been behaving recently, now you will have to deal with the consequences."

"You are going to tell them?" She demanded. She could see that an audience had gathered in the office, and while she was confident the soundproofing would have shielded their conversation from those watching she was suddenly fearful that Tim would have no hesitation in revealing the guilty secret she had been nursing so deeply.

"You disgust me, Abby." The whole conversation had left Tim feeling shattered and emotionally bereft. "I can't tell you how much I hate you for what you've done. No, I won't tell them. . .it is nobody else's business," he said his voice shaky with loss. "I will never forgive you for what you have done. . .from this moment on you are as dead to me as the future we could have shared together. I will not have anything more to do with you."

He removed the door remote and the data stick from inside his sling and opened the door.

He turned back to her, ignoring Vance and Tony and Ducky and Sheila. "I don't want to hear from you again, Abby. One more abusive email or text or voicemail and I will take out an injunction," he informed her coldly. "Here," he said pulling Dr Avery's business card from his pocket and slapping it down on the desk in front of her, "I think you need this more than I do, Abby. Get some help before you screw up some other poor bastard's life."

"McGee, is everything alright?" Tony asked. This was a new side to Tim. It was a shock to see him so implacably distant.

"Tim?" Sheila was by his side, concerned by his pallor and by the violence of the shaking of his hand. She had never seen such a look of utter devastation on his face. She beckoned Ducky over and he moved to support the injured man. Tim resisted when they tried to usher him away. His anger was cold and hard and bright. . .he wanted to hurt her and for once he wasn't prepared to be a gentleman.

"Director, you can stop the mole-hunt. . .If you have the techs check Ms Sciuto's machine I think you will find the emailed report was distributed from here. You will also find the evidence for the harassment complaint I am going to file on this data stick." Tim informed him, handing over the small devise with a shudder of revulsion.

"Tony, I hope you still want me to be your second in command but I will not consider any post that involves any interaction with Ms Sciuto," Tim informed him.

"Oh, god, Tim, what has she done?"

"The 'why' doesn't matter: I will not work with her. I'm sorry if that means you have to choose between us and I don't expect you to take my side but I won't change my mind on this."

The Director stepped in and placed a hand on Tim's shoulder. "Go home and rest, Tim. It will all be dealt with. Keep in touch and let me know how your rehab is going."

"Thank you, Sir. . .I'm sorry."

"No apology necessary, Agent McGee. . .I'll be in touch."

In the silence of the lab after Ducky and Sheila had assisted Tim away Director Vance and Tony contemplated the revelations of the last few minutes.

"I don't need a final decision now but do you want McGee on your team?" Vance asked the prospective team leader.

"What about Abby?"

"Leave Ms Sciuto out of the equation, Agent DiNozzo."

"Yes. If Tim gets his Field Status back then I want him on my team."

"It could be months with TAD Agents. . .it won't be easy."

"He's earned the spot, Director."

"Very well. Now, don't you have some files to work on?"

"Yes Sir."

"Dismissed."

Abby was still in the ballistics lab, black streaks of mascara smudged on her cheeks.

"Ms Sciuto, I will see you in my office in an hour. You may bring an advocate or union rep with you. Do not be late."

NCIS 

Abby had tidied herself up but had not taken up the suggestion of having a representative with her. Director Vance was at the conference table with the Director of Human Resources beside him when Abby was shown into his office. He motioned her to sit as he shuffled through a file and drew out a pile of computer print-outs.

"Ms Sciuto, less than four weeks ago I had cause to issue you with a formal reprimand for unprofessional conduct."

"Yes, Sir."

"At that time I warned you that any further infractions would be treated with the utmost seriousness. . . And yet we find ourselves here again."

"Yes, Sir."

"Do you admit to distributing a confidential report? A report that you obtained without official authority from another Agency?"

She nodded. "Yes, Sir," she whispered.

"And do you have any excuse for your actions?"

"I was angry. I wanted everyone to know what McGee had done," she admitted. "He shot Gibbs, Director. . .he ruined his life!"

"He saved his life. . .And you have ruined your career, Ms Sciuto. Was it worth it for a moment's petty revenge?"

"No, Sir."

"You may also like to consider that your friend in the FBI lab who furnished you with the copy of the report is now facing disciplinary action for their actions."

He handed her a copy of the emails. "Do you admit to using the Agency network to send abusive and defamatory messages to a fellow employee?"

She couldn't deny it with the evidence printed out in front of her. "Yes, Sir."

"Do you consider it acceptable behavior, Ms Sciuto? Do you think it an acceptable use of Federal resources?"

"No, Sir."

"Do you have anything to say in mitigation, because frankly, Ms Sciuto, I am appalled at the level of unprofessional behavior you have demonstrated over the last few weeks, behavior that has not only continued but has worsened despite your being under caution?"

"Does this mean I won't be considered for the supervisory post at Quantico?"

Vance almost laughed.

"Miss Sciuto, You would 'never' have been considered for that post. While I do not doubt your technical expertise or the good work you have done for the Agency, you have never demonstrated any management capability; you have consistently refused to work with other technicians and your recent actions have highlighted a level of professional incompetence that almost beggars belief."

"I'm good at what I do. . .every Agency, University and Science Corporation on the East Coast has tried to hire me away from NCIS. . .they value my skills and they pay better"

"Then I suggest you take one of them up on their offer before the scuttlebutt of your recent behavior does the rounds and queers your pitch and makes you unemployable."

"You're firing me!"

"I am giving you the opportunity to resign with immediate effect. If you choose not to do so then you will be suspended at the conclusion of this meeting whilst I will begin formal dismissal proceedings, Ms Sciuto.

"Just like that!"

" Yes, and you had better hope that someone will employ you based on your previous record and experience because, should I be asked to provide you with a testimonial, you can be sure I will be scrupulously honest," the Director informed her.

" Ms Gregson will take you down to her office to fill out the necessary paperwork and you will have until the end of the day to hand over any existing casework to Mark Brady who is already on his way up from Norfolk and to allow a member of the IT staff to supervise your removal from all network access . A member of the Security staff will accompany you for the remainder of the day. You will hand in your security badge before you leave the building; if you require more time to clear out your personal belongings I will arrange with Security for you to be admitted on Saturday morning to do so," The Director informed her formally.

"I see."

"Was there anything else, Ms Sciuto?"

"No. . .this is a total over-reaction, Director."

"This is a Federal Agency and we expect the highest standards from our employees. You have failed to uphold those standards and, as you so succinctly put it a few weeks ago, Ms Sciuto. . .no one is indispensible."

NCIS 

In a quiet Italian restaurant a few blocks from the Navy Yard four colleagues sat together in rather gloomy silence at what should have been a celebration to mark the end of an era.

"I can't believe there are only the four of us left to mark the occasion." As the youngest one present Jimmy seemed to be taking it the hardest.

"Change is not always bad Mr Palmer. . .you are at the start of a whole new chapter of your career. From tomorrow you are a fully fledged Medical Examiner."

"But you won't be there, Dr Mallard. . .it won't be the same."

"Don't you think now is the time to dispense with the formalities, Jimmy. . .You are in every way now my equal and I hope you will always consider me your friend. Just because we are no longer working together it does not mean that I expect you to disappear from my life. I would be honored if you would call me Ducky as all my other dear friends do."

"Of course, Dr. . .Ducky! though it might take a little getting used to."

"Has anyone heard from Abby?" Ziva asked.

"I had a change of address card. . .she is still not answering her cell or replying to emails," Tony said sadly.

"Give her time, Lad. It is still early days and I suspect she is still feeling pretty bruised," Ducky offered. She had left without saying goodbye, leaving town within hours of walking out of the Navy Yard, though her apartment was still there, locked up and waiting for her to return or to empty out.

"Where is she, Tony?" Ziva asked.

"Atlanta. She has been offered a job in the research labs at the CDC.

"I hope she will be happy there. . .I miss the old Abby. I cannot believe that everything has changed so quickly. Three months ago we were a full team and now Abby is gone, Gibbs and you, Ducky, have retired and Tim is still on sick leave." Ziva said taking another sip of wine.

"And let's not forget that Tony and Jimmy have both been promoted and you, Ziva still have a chance to hone new skills. It is not all negative, My Dear," Ducky assured her. "To new beginnings," Ducky raised his glass and they all joined in the toast.

"How is Tim doing?" Jimmy asked Tony.

"He reckons another month in plaster. If he can get the pot replaced by a splint he can be back on restricted desk duty whilst he has more rehab. The Director is looking to send him on some management courses while he is still on restricted duty but the Docs are quite hopeful that he will be back to full fitness by the end of the year."

"And what about Gibbs?"

"He was discharged from the rehab unit last week. He has a new high spec prosthesis and he has already walked the golf course with me. His balance is getting better all the time," Ducky explained with a grin.

"You're planning to get him playing golf, Ducky?"

"I am indeed. . .he seems quite keen on the prospect. You are welcome to join us any time you like. . .the more the merrier!"

"What is he planning to do, do you know?" Tony asked. "I called round to his house the other day and it was locked up."

"He has gone up to Stillwater to help Jack close up the shop. They have a cabin in the hills: I believe Jethro has big plans for renovating it. . .Jack always intended to retire there when he gave up the store and I think Jethro plans to spend some time with Jack now he has the chance."

"But he's not leaving DC, is he?" There was something rather sad in the uncertainty of Tony's question.

"No. His friends are here in the city. . .he's not planning on deserting us, Tony. . .Jethro is very loyal to those he considers family." Ducky assured him.

"How did he take the news about Abby's departure, Ducky?" Ziva asked.

"Very sadly, but he could see that the Director didn't have any other choice, given her actions. I believe she went to see him before she left town."

"Does he blame, Tim. . .about Abby, I mean?"

"No. Abby was the author of her own fate. . .Tim was just another casualty along the way."

Later in the evening as the group were just beginning to consider calling it a night, Tony pulled Ducky aside.

"Ducky, did you ever find out what was behind it all?"

"No, Tony, and we must respect Tim's privacy in the matter. I have my suspicions but I would never cross that line. . .he was badly hurt, Tony. . .more than we will probably ever know, but unless he chooses to confide that information then it is best to let it be."

"Will he be alright, Ducky?"

"Timothy has a very good support network, Anthony: he has his own family, his NCIS family and I still include myself and Jethro in that circle and a little bird tells me he also has the lovely Dr Avery on his speed dial . . ."

"Way to go, Probie. . .But she's his Doctor. . .is that even ethical."

"I understand he now has a new Doctor," Ducky said with beaming smile.

"So he'll be alright?"

"With time and the support of his friends, yes, I believe he will. I really believe he will." 

The End.


End file.
